


Life Goes On

by glasssmoothie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Eileen Leahy, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Claire Commits Arson, Dean Winchester Ships Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Everyone Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Homophobic John Winchester, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Human Jack Kline, Implied Sexual Content, Jack Kline is Non-Binary, M/M, Minor Angst, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Wayward Daughters (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 21,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28830696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glasssmoothie/pseuds/glasssmoothie
Summary: Canon-compliant up until the last few minutes of 15x19. Jack gives up Chuck's power in order to release Amara, and Amara gives them a spell to rescue Cas from the Empty, which requires help from Claire Novak. Once Cas is back, the Winchesters are at peace to do whatever they please.First few chapters are fix-it, then it becomes domesticity and mini case fics, destiel, saileen, dreamhunter and their new little sibling Jack.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak
Comments: 38
Kudos: 92





	1. Chapter 1

And in the blink of an eye— less than that, even— everything was back to normal. Streets filled with cars, sidewalks bustling with pedestrians, restaurants and shops bursting with, well, life. Children rode bicycles down the street, two women jogged by, a man passed with his dog, glaring at the three people standing in the middle of the road. A stray dog– was that Miracle, the stray from the gas station?– trotted down the street, tongue lolling out of its mouth. 

“You did it,” Sam breathed in apparent disbelief. 

Jack smiled in that childish way he always did, ear-to-ear and full of mirth. “Yeah,” he replied softly, “yeah, I did it.” He turned to Dean, who was smiling softly at him. This kid. This incredible kid. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a phone ringtone interrupted him. Sam’s eyes went wide, and he dug into his pocket. He stared at the phone for a moment in shock before turning away, typing furiously. 

Dean turned to Jack, his joy fading into desperation as he realized that Sam must be texting Eileen. “And Cas?” 

Jack frowned. “I… I can’t see him.” He closed his eyes, his face scrunching up in concentration. The air around him pulsed softly. Dean took a few steps back in fear of the kid’s new power. Jack opened his eyes again, and the pulsing stopped. Dean looked at him expectantly, but he shook his head no. “I’m blocked from the Empty. Billie must have warded it. I guess because I’m supposed to end up there one day.” It felt like a punch to the gut. Cas was trapped there in that God-forsaken place. 

The dog he had seen a minute ago trotted up to Dean, smiling at him in that dog way. It was Miracle. 

“Hey, Miracle,” Dean said softly, squatting down to look the dog in the eyes, “You remember me?” The dog turned away and jumped into the open driver’s door, settling in the middle of the bench. Dean turned back to Jack, his grievous mood returning. 

Sam jogged back to the two of them, beaming. “Eileen is…” His smile faded away when he saw Dean’s expression. “What’s wrong?” Dean turned away, not wanting Sam to see him in such pain. Jack couldn’t reach Cas. He was gone. Out of reach. No body to burn, nothing left. But there had to be a way. There was always a way. 

“Cas,” Jack said, his eyes cast downward in sorrow, “I can’t reach him. The Empty is… out of my reach.” 

“How do we find him?” Dean asked, eyes hardened, ready to hunt. He would do anything. It was his fault Cas was gone. Cas had died for him. That made it his responsibility to get him back. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Sam assured Dean, “There’s nothing we can do about it, not right this second.” 

Dean ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. Sam was right. Of course Sam was right. “Fine. Fine. First we'll make sure everyone’s okay.” 

A noise from Jack made them turn toward the nephilim. His face was scrunched up in what may have been pain or may have been concentration. He stumbled, and would have fallen had Sam not run to his side. 

“Jack! Jack, what is it?” 

“A-Amara,” Jack whimpered, “She wants out, bad.” 

“Then let her out,” Dean commanded, leaning over the boy, cupping his face in his hand. 

“I don’t know how!” he cried out, writhing in Sam’s arms. He suddenly spasmed violently, letting out a roar that couldn’t possibly be human. Dean knelt beside Jack, muttering a string of comforting words, but Sam was more concerned about the crowd gathering around them. 

“Dean,” he said urgently, “We need to get back to the bunker. Now.” Dean glanced up at the people all around, nodded curtly, and picked up Jack’s legs. They hauled him unceremoniously into the back seat of the Impala, muttering to onlookers about epilepsy, before pealing out of the parking space and speeding back to the bunker, stray dog perched in the middle and God, apparently, passed out in the backseat.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack woke up in a dimly lit room, on a lumpy cot. He sat up, looking around in confusion. He was in the dungeon. Sam sat a few feet away on a rickety chair. He sat up quickly when he saw that Jack was awake. 

“Jack!” he breathed, “You’re up! How do you feel?” 

“Horrible,” Jack groaned. Sam offered him a glass of water sitting on the table next to him, and Jack took it. He sipped from it, then grimaced. “Why am I in the dungeon?” 

“Just a precaution,” Sam explained gently, “it’s better warded than the rest of the bunker.” He looked up, and Jack turned to see Dean standing behind him, staring at the wall of the dungeon. He couldn’t see Dean’s face, but darkness radiated off of him like heat from an ember.

“Dean?” He jumped a little, as if shaken from a trance. When he turned, he curved his lips upward, attempting to comfort Jack, but it did nothing for the haunted look in his eyes. 

“Hey, buddy,” Dean said, kneeling beside him, “Are you hungry?” 

“Yeah, kinda.” Upon the thought of food, Jack’s stomach growled. 

“I’ll make you a sandwich,” Sam said, already walking out the door. 

They sat there in silence for a long moment. Dean cleared his throat, and Jack turned to him. He looked so sad. So broken. 

“Jack, I…” Dean shook his head. “I said something… when we were dealing with… with Chuck, and I… it’s not true.” Dean took a deep breath. “You are family. Of course you’re family. You… you’re our kid. We love you. I love you.”

Jack felt a lump forming in his throat. With everything that had happened, he had almost forgotten about what Dean had said while Chuck was playing with them, what he had said about him not being family. 

“And I want to be clear. We– I– don’t care about you for your powers, we care about you for you. You’re a great kid, you’re… you’re good. And I… I never should have doubted it. I should have trusted… I should have trusted Cas.” He swallowed. “And I should have trusted you.” 

“One ham and cheese, coming right up,” Sam announced as he reentered the room. Dean stood and turned back to the wall. Jack blinked back tears, and set his glass of water on the floor next to the cot. He took the plate, replaying Dean’s words. They were the same words that Cas had told him when he had first lost his powers. He was about to take a bite of the sandwich when a voice sounded in his head. 

[Jack,] the voice whispered. Jack jumped, dropping the plate on the concrete floor. It shattered with a loud crash! “Amara?” 

“Amara? What about her?” Sam asked. Jack ignored him, listening for the voice of his aunt—sister? 

[Jack, let me go.] 

“I don’t know how!” Jack was frightened. Amara’s power and Chuck’s, they were intertwined. Mixed. He could not tell where one ended and the other began. He couldn’t even tell that they were separate. “It all feels the same. I can’t tell what’s mine and what’s yours.” He could hear Sam saying something, but it was distant, as if he were in a separate room.

[I know how to use these powers. Let me have them. I’ll make you human, you can live in peace.] 

Jack thought about this. If he were human, he’d be useless. Without his powers, he was ordinary. Weak. 

[Just let go. Let go of your power. You have clung to it for so long, like a lifeline. Just let it go.] 

But Dean had told him that he didn’t care about Jack’s powers. Neither had Cas, or Sam for that matter. 

“Jack?” Sam whispered, bringing him back to the dungeon. Dean was kneeling next to the cot, and Sam was standing over him, hand on his shoulder. 

“She can make me human,” 

“So she’s taking your power?” Dean asked. 

“It’s mostly Chuck’s anyway,” Jack said, turning to Dean, “Amara and I can’t go into the Empty. It’s specifically warded against us, since Billie became in charge. I can’t get Cas back.” Tears stung Jack’s eyes. “Cas is gone. And I’m useless.” Dean stood and turned away quickly, and Sam squeezed his shoulder and knelt beside him. 

“Jack, we don’t care if you’re useful, we care if you’re here, with us. You’re family.” Jack felt tears dripping down his face. He didn’t want to lose his powers, but he couldn’t imagine living a life away from the Winchesters. Sam was right. They were his family. 

All of a sudden, Jack felt as though someone were draining him, as if someone had pulled a plug in his torso. His power. It was all leaving him. 

“Jack.” 

Jack sat bolt upright and stared at the woman before him. She was pretty, and looked human enough, but she held herself in a way that demonstrated more power than any human could possibly hold. 

“Amara…” Sam breathed. 

“The Winchesters.” She looked at Dean. 

“Can you bring Cas back?” Dean asked, his voice cracking. Jack’s heart hammered against his ribs. He’d never heard Dean sound like that. He knew the answer to the question, but he didn’t want to hear Amara say it. 

“No,” Amara said, “It’s warded specifically against me and… well, just me now.” Dean slumped into the wall. “But there is a spell. It brought back Lucifer, once.” 

A jolt of energy– hope– coursed through Jack, making him forget about his sudden humanity. “Yes! He used my blood, he would have succeeded if Mary and I hadn’t gotten there in time!” His heart panged when he thought of Mary, what had happened that day, but he had bigger concerns at the moment. 

“Castiel will not require your blood,” Amara said to Jack, “as it is Lucifer’s power that you once had, not Castiel’s.” Jack felt that small stab of shame that he always felt whenever anyone brought up his father. “The spell is simple. It requires blood of a vessel, substance of the being, and something that proves that they were in this world. The incantation is–” she snapped, and the words popped up in Jack’s head like a computer ad “–that.” 

Jack’s mind was spinning. He didn’t know how they were going to get those ingredients. But a thought occurred to him, and he looked into Amara’s eyes. He thought he could see galaxies swirling in them, even from his lower vantage point. “What will you do?” 

Amara smiled. “I’ll try my hand at Creation. I’ll leave this Earth alone, although I may visit. It is a rather remarkable place. Besides,” her smile turned sad, “Despite his narcissism and manipulative tendencies, I should leave something of my brother’s in this existence.” The Winchester brothers did not look comforted, but Jack felt that he could trust Amara, and so nodded respectfully at her. She disappeared before Jack could even blink, the space where she stood glaringly empty. 

“Jack, are you alright?” Sam asked hesitantly. 

Jack stood from the cot. His shoes crunched on the broken glass. “I’m good.” He didn’t really feel good. He was human, he was weak, he was useless. He knew the Winchesters didn’t care, but he still felt as if something were missing from his being. He thought of Cas, stuck in the Empty, that horrid place. “We need to get Cas home.” He would focus on Cas for now. 

“Blood of the vessel, substance of the being, and something that proves he was in this world,” Dean said, sounding distant. He stared into space, thinking. 

“The Empty took him in his vessel, didn’t it?” Sam asked. 

Dean’s face hardened. “Yes,” he said, the word sounding forced. 

Jack looked away from Dean, scanning the room for any sort of inspiration. His eyes landed on the door to the dungeon. On it was a symbol in charred blood. Maybe Enochian? If so, it was more ancient than even the ancient language of the angels. 

“Did Cas do that?” Jack asked, pointing at the door. He looked back at Dean. 

“Y-yes,” Dean replied, realization dawning in his eyes. “Would that be…” 

“‘Substance of the being,’” Sam breathed, “I’ll bet it has traces of his grace in it.” 

Dean strode over to the door, grabbing one of the brass bowls used for spellwork that they stored on the shelves. He took out his knife, and began scraping the dried and scorched blood off of the door and into the bowl. 

“Do you think that counts as the vessel and the being?” Jack asked softly, turning to Sam. 

“He was occupying the vessel when he made the sigil, so I don’t think so,” Sam said softly. His face lit up. “Claire.” 

“What about her?” 

“Cas possessed her once. Briefly, only for a few minutes, and a long time ago, but… she was a vessel. Her blood should work.” 

“And proof that Cas was here?” The two of them watched Dean scrape at the door, thinking. The sound echoed through the dungeon. 

“He’s saved us so many times, don’t you think any of our blood would work?” Jack asked after a few minutes. He looked up at Sam. 

“Dean is our best bet,” Sam whispered. “Cas rescued Dean from Hell, and his last act on Earth was saving him, he’s the soundest proof we have. Besides, Cas said a couple of times that he left a mark, a brand, on Dean’s soul.” He smiled. “This will work. It’s going to work.” Jack smiled up at Sam. They had a chance. And not a slim-chance, hail Mary plan. A real plan. 

Sam’s smile faltered. “Claire doesn’t know.” 

Jack’s chest panged with sadness. He hadn’t known Claire, since he’d been trapped in another dimension the last time she and the Winchesters hunted anything together, but he knew she was something like family to them. 

“Got as much of it as I could,” Dean said, walking back to them with the bowl of rust and blood. There was something tender and mournful in his eyes. He blinked and looked up at Sam, and it was gone. “Sam, what’s wrong?” 

Sam sighed. “We need to tell Claire,” he explained, his voice heavy, “Cas possessed her at one point, so we need her blood. So we need to tell her.” The brothers stood in silence, not looking at each other. 

“Do you want me to call her for you?” Jack asked hesitantly. 

“No,” Dean replied, “No, I’ve got it. I’m the one who promised her that I would… I’ll take care of it.” Hesitantly, as if he were afraid someone would knock it from his hands, he handed the bowl of Cas’s blood to Sam. Then he turned and strode out of the room, the door creaking as he left. 

“What did Dean promise her?” Jack asked Sam. 

Sam sighed. “That he would look out for Cas.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean stood in the hallway, phone in hand, preparing himself to break the news to Claire. He had promised her. Promised that he would look out for Cas. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stem the tears that threatened to spill out at any second. This was his fault. Cas did it for him. Cas died for him, and he had to get him back. There was no other option. 

If only he could tell him. If only he could tell Cas that he was coming for him, that he was going to bring him home. 

“Cas,” Dean whispered, praying harder than he’d ever prayed before, “Cas, we’re coming. I’m coming for you.” 

He opened his eyes, blinking furiously, and hit call. 

The line rang a few times before Claire picked it up. 

“Dean?” 

“Claire.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

His heart hammered in his chest. He had to say it. He had to tell her. “It’s….” He swallowed thickly. “It’s Cas.” 

“What happened?” Her voice was strained. Dean felt a lump in his throat. 

“He’s dead.” It felt so final, saying it aloud. He had to remind himself that there was a way. There was a way to get him back. 

“He’s…” Claire trailed off. “You promised. You promised you’d look out for him.” 

Dean sighed. “I know. I know, and we’re going to get him back.” 

“How?” Claire’s voice was murderous. Dean was glad this conversation was not in person. 

“There’s a spell. It requires blood of the vessel, and… he possessed you once, so ....” 

“What happened to his… current vessel?” 

Dean grimaced. “His vessel was taken as well. I… please, Claire, help me fix this. Help me save him.” 

There was a long pause. “Let me talk to Jody. We’ll be on our way soon.” She hung up, leaving Dean in a silence that seemed to crush the air out of his lungs.


	4. Chapter 4

[Cas.] 

Cas opened his eyes. Not that it made any difference; everything was black and nothingness. 

[Cas, we’re coming. I’m coming for you.] 

“Dean?” Cas croaked.


	5. Chapter 5

The door to the bunker creaked open, then slammed shut. Miracle barked from his spot in the library, scrabbling over the hardwood floor. 

“Claire!” Sam exclaimed, looking up at the entry balcony, “Kaia! Thank you for coming, we–” 

“Shut it,” Claire snapped, her voice crackling with anger. She stomped down the stairs, Kaia following closely behind her. “Jody and Alex are on their way. Picking up groceries.” 

“I– we– thank you, that’s very thoughtful,” Sam said, stumbling over words. It was Claire’s usual to be angry all the time, but today she seemed downright violent. 

“Where’s Dean? Where’s this spell thing going down?” She tossed her jacket and keys on the map table, then glared at Sam with all of her black-eyelined might. She ignored Miracle nosing at her hand curiously. 

“Downstairs, in the, uh. The dungeon.” Sam stuttered. 

“You have a dungeon?” Kaia asked in horror. 

“We– yes, we do. This way.” He led the girls down to the basement. Dean paced in front of the back wall, next to the brass bowl. Jack sat on the floor, looking up when Sam and the two girls entered. Sam closed the door behind him, trapping Miracle in the hallway. 

“You fucking promised,” Claire said, her voice a threat. Dean stopped pacing, and looked up at her. His face was a blank mask that only Sam could see through. He hadn’t seen Dean in this much pain since Mom died. 

“I know,” he said, his voice wet. 

“You promised me that you would look out for him. That you would watch his back.” She marched up to Dean, blonde ponytail bouncing, and glared at him. They stood like that for a long moment, each staring the other down. Then Claire pulled out a knife and knelt in front of the bowl. She sucked in her breath sharply when she took the blade to her hand. Sam heard the light patter of blood spilling into the bowl. She stood again, and wrapped her bleeding hand in a bandana that she pulled from her pocket. Then she stepped back. 

“Alright,” Sam said, hoping beyond hope that they were doing this right, “We’ve got blood of the vessel, substance of the being, now…” 

“Proof that he was here.” Dean knelt over the bowl and cut his own hand. He watched the blood drip for a moment, then closed his fist, not bothering to wrap it. 

“Jack, now.”


	6. Chapter 6

Dean heard Jack chanting over the bowl, but his head was buzzing louder than a killer swarm of cursed bugs. He stared at the wall, that horrid wall, where Cas and the Empty had disappeared. He wanted to pray to Cas again, tell him that they were coming, but he could not form words, no matter how hard he tried. 

Black goo oozed and bubbled out of some invisible hole on the wall. It opened up into some sort of doorway, revealing a figure in a beige trench coat sitting on the ground. It whirled around to face the door. Dean’s heart leapt. 

“Cas!” Dean yelled, stepping toward the door. Cas scrambled up, reaching out his hand to Dean. He tried to step through the door, but was pulled back, as if by some invisible rope around his neck. 

“No!” Cas croaked, hands scrabbling at his throat. It began to glow, lighting his neck up red. Dean grabbed him by the shoulders, making sure he couldn’t fall back. He couldn’t let him die again. Not again.

“His grace!” Dean heard Jack cry. Something in his head clicked. With one hand still on Cas, he reached into his pocket for his already bloody knife, and cut a shallow slit in Cas’s throat. As if sucked out by a vaccuum, the shimmering white clouds of his grace flew into the Empty. Cas stumbled, the Empty’s invisible rope severed, and fell toward Dean, who caught him and lowered him gently to the ground. The door to the Empty closed, oozing back into the wall as if down a bathtub drain. 

“Cas…” Dean breathed. He hadn’t planned for this moment. What should he say? A drop of blood trickled from Cas’s neck, and Dean reached down and wiped it gently away with his sleeve. 

“Dean,” Cas breathed back. His eyelids slid shut, and he fell limp in Dean’s arms. For a moment fear threatened to drown Dean, but Cas’s chest was moving rhythmically. He was alive. He was here and he was alive. But Cas was human now. Dean had taken his grace, his power, his divinity. Would he forgive Dean? Was Dean being selfish, taking away what connected Cas to Heaven, or had he saved him? 

“He’s alive,” Jack breathed, “He’s alive, he’s back!” His voice raised in triumph. Sam scoffed happily. 

“Let’s get him into bed,” Dean ordered. With great effort, he lifted Cas from the ground, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and the other under his legs. He passed by Claire and Kaia, who were watching in disbelief. Jack trailed behind him like a puppy, and Sam opened the door for Dean. Dean carried the former angel past the guest room, and instead laid him in his own bed. Even without any connection to Heaven, without his grace, he looked like something too good for this Earth. 

Sam cleared his throat, standing by the door. Dean turned to face his brother. 

“Should I heat up some soup? For when he wakes up?” 

“Yes,” Dean replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking, “yes, please do.” Sam left the room, the door latching behind him. Dean dragged a chair from his desk to the side of the bed. He could hear voices from the kitchen– Jody and Alex must have arrived– but he made no move to join them. How many times had the angel watched over Dean as he slept? And now here was Dean, watching over the angel. He reached out to pull the beige trenchcoat closed around Cas’ chest. He noticed a red stain on the shoulder, and his heart skipped a beat before he realized it was blood from the cut on his hand, from when he’d gripped him tight to prevent him from falling back into the Empty. It made a perfect handprint, like the burn on Dean’s shoulder when Cas rescued him from Hell, and the stain on his jacket from the day he was taken by the Empty. 

Dean leaned back in the chair, sighing in relief. Cas was safe. Cas was home. So what if Cas couldn’t forgive him? He was out of the Empty. He was safe. And Chuck was gone; they were free. 

Now came the harder part. What would he say? Did he have the courage to say those words that had caused Cas to be taken from him? 

He noticed that the cut on Cas’ neck was dripping again. That he could take care of. He pulled a small first aid kit from under his night stand and opened it. He wasn’t sure when he put it there, or why, but he was grateful not to have to leave the room. He removed a piece of gauze and an alcohol wipe, and set the pack down. He opened the packaging for the wipe, pulled it out, and gently pressed it to the cut. 

Cas’ eyes flew open as he sat bolt upright, gasping. 

“Whoa!” Dean yelled in surprise, “Cas, it’s me!” 

Cas’s eyes met Dean’s. His heart skipped a beat. “Dean…” 

“Yeah, it’s me. You’re home.” He watched Cas as the angel looked around the room, taking in his surroundings. 

“I’m human?” he breathed, reaching up to touch the cut on his neck. Dean’s heart sunk. 

“Yes. I’m sorry, I… I panicked, the Empty was taking you back…” he realized that Cas was smiling. “You’re not upset?” 

“No.” Dean’s heart soared. “I… I can belong here now. As an angel, I always felt out of place; I was rejected from Heaven and not of the Earth, but like this I can… I can stay here…” He looked up at Dean, his smile fading into a pleading gaze. “If you’ll have me, that is.” 

Dean recalled the last time Cas had been human, and Gadreel had forced Dean to ban Cas from the bunker. But not this time. This time, it was just them, and Sam and Jack. “Of course you can stay,” Dean assured him, “Please, stay.” He took Cas' hand where it rested on the bed. “You don’t ever have to leave if you don’t want to.” 

Cas stared at their intertwined fingers, a smile playing across his lips. “Of course I’ll stay.” 

Dean ran his tongue over his lip, unsure of what to say next. Well, that wasn’t true. He knew what he needed to say, but he didn’t think he could say it now, like this, with Cas only just back and adjusting to humanity. His brain felt completely blank. He just needed a few minutes to think, to plan it out. 

He realized Cas was staring at him. He cleared his throat hesitantly. 

“Why don’t you take a shower, freshen up, and then we can go join the others for dinner,” Dean said quietly, cursing himself. Why couldn’t he just say it? But no, he had to make sure he said it right. Cas had said so many beautiful things that day, Dean had to make sure he did likewise. 

“That sounds good,” Cas said, nodding. He swung his legs off the bed, and stood shakily. Dean laid his hand on Cas’ shoulder to steady him. Cas walked over to the bathroom, slowly finding his legs. 

“I’ll grab you some clean clothes,” Dean offered, as Cas removed his coat and laid it over a chair. He pulled pairs of jeans and boxers from his drawer, and rifled through his shirts until he found the one he was looking for, a faded AC/DC shirt that he knew was the softest he owned. He heard the water start running, and swallowed as he pushed quietly into the bathroom, laying the clothes on the toilet and making a point of not looking in the direction of the shower curtain. He realized that Cas had forgotten to grab a towel, so he took a folded one from the shelf above the toilet and laid it on top of the clothing. He shut the door quietly behind him, wincing as he realized that he still had a large cut on his hand. He grabbed the first aid kit from where he’d set it on the floor and began to bandage his hand, thinking about what he could possibly say that could match what Cas had told him.


	7. Chapter 7

“Claire, can you cut up the onions for me, please?” Jody ordered, emptying grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Sam was glad he’d cleaned up last time they’d been in the bunker. 

“Jody, I’m the only person here wearing eyeliner!” Claire protested. 

“Sounds like a you problem,” Alex quipped. Claire huffed and snatched the bag of onions from the counter, then pulled a large knife from the knife block. 

“Really, Jody, this is way too much effort, I’ll just heat up some soup,” Sam protested weakly. He really didn’t want canned food again, but he also didn’t want to be a pain in Jody’s ass. 

“Sam, it’s no big deal. Kaia, can you cut up the carrots and potatoes?” 

“Sure thing. Claire, trade ya,” Kaia said, tossing the carrots at Claire. She just had time to drop the knife on the counter and turn around to catch them. Kaia laughed. 

“You won’t catch me off guard today,” Claire teased. She slid the cutting board with the onions to Kaia before pulling out another one for herself. They stood closer together than what was probably safe for two people handling knives, but nobody commented except Alex. 

“What, are you guys joined at the hip?” Alex teased, sliding between the two of them to grab a knife. 

“Homophobe,” Claire spat sarcastically. 

“Simp,” Alex retorted. Kaia giggled. 

Sam laughed at the exchange, and sat at the table next to Jack. He pulled a beer from the six pack in the middle of the table and twisted off the cap. Something nudged up against his leg, startling him, but it was just Miracle, begging under the table. 

“Cas will wake up, right?” Jack asked uneasily. He looked up at Sam. 

“I think if he wasn’t, Dean would have made a fuss by now,” Sam assured Jack, stroking the dog’s ears. He did not look comforted. “Hey, it’s okay. He’ll wake up.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Hey, Dean!” Jody called. Sam and Jack whipped around to see Dean standing in the doorway, smiling lazily. There was a bandage wrapped around his hand. 

“Is he up?” Jack asked, looking up at Dean with fearful eyes. 

“Yes,” Dean said, “He’s in the shower, he’ll be out soon.” He paused to take in the chaotic cooking scene unfolding around him. “What’s this?” 

“Dinner,” Jody responded, “Sit, have a beer. We’ve got it covered. You boys have had a hell of a week.” 

Dean shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.” He flopped into the seat opposite Sam, and grabbed a beer. 

“So Cas,” Sam started, “He’s…” 

“Human,” Dean finished, “But completely alright. In fact, he said he was kind of glad about it, what with Heaven kicking him out and all.” He took a swig of his beer. “Sam, we won.” 

Sam was about to respond when he felt his pocket vibrate. He pulled his phone out, squinting a little bit at the text on his screen. It was Eileen. 

[I’m here. Unlock the door? :)]

Sam smiled. “Yeah, we did.”


	8. Chapter 8

Cas had forgotten what a good shower felt like. As a human the first time, he had showered in gym locker rooms and halfway houses, but here the water pressure was good and the hot water didn’t seem to run out. He squirted soap onto his hand– 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner– and massaged it into his hair. It felt good. He remembered he needed to close his eyes so not to get any soap in them. 

He had thought loving Dean as an angel was unbearable, but this? With all the butterflies in his stomach, and his racing heart, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to survive it. Emotions. So much more vivid as a human. When Dean had taken his hand, it was all he could do not to pass out with the swell of emotion in his chest. He was glad when Dean suggested he take a shower; he needed to collect himself. He hadn’t counted on having to deal with Dean’s reaction to his final words. 

He finished washing himself, then turned off the water. He paused a moment, standing in the steam trapped by the plastic curtain. When he pulled it aside, he saw a pile of clothes and a fresh towel folded on the toilet seat. He smiled, and unfolded the towel to dry himself. Dean had asked him to stay. It wasn’t an ‘I love you, too,’ but he supposed that was okay. Dean had never really been one for explicitly expressed emotions, anyway. 

Cas kept the towel wrapped around himself, and picked up the shirt on top of the pile. He recognized it as Dean’s favorite AC/DC shirt. He thought about bringing it up to his nose to smell it, but decided against it. He pulled it over his head, relishing the feel of the worn-soft fabric on his skin. He pulled on the boxers and jeans, gave his hair a last drying off with the towel, and turned to leave the bathroom. He caught sight of himself in the slowly unfogging mirror, and stopped. He touched the cut on his neck lightly. It was red and raw and much shallower than he’d anticipated. Dean must have been extremely careful not to slit his throat in the heat of the moment. He turned away and opened the door. As he stepped out into Dean’s room, he saw that Dean had just entered. 

“Oh, you’re– I mean– I just– I came to check on you.” Dean frowned. “Do you, um, want some socks? The floor is cold…” 

“Yes, please,” Cas said gratefully. Concrete floors were awfully cold. He recalled that one could catch illness from being too cold. As if on cue, he shivered. 

“Here,” Dean said, offering Cas socks and a grey robe. The one Sam jokingly called the dead man robe. 

“Thank you.” Cas sat on the edge of the bed to pull the socks on. Dean looked away, biting his lip as if trying to ward off the awkwardness. 

“Jody and the girls are here. I hope that’s okay, I know it’s been a weird day…” 

“That’s alright,” Cas replied, standing and shrugging the robe over his shoulder. He tried not to notice Dean’s cheeks coloring slightly. “It’s been a long time, and… in the Empty, I was asleep… so I’m well-rested.” 

Dean’s brow furrowed. “But you were sitting up when we opened the doorway.” 

“I heard my name.” Cas could feel himself blushing. That never happened as an angel. “I heard your prayer.” 

“You–” Dean’s voice faltered. “Cas, I… I probably should have said it sooner, but….” He took a deep breath, and ran his fingers through his hair, looking down at his feet, and then back up at Cas. Dean’s eyes met his, and he locked his gaze on the man he fell for. This beautiful man with a beautiful soul. “I love you too.” 

Cas’ heart hammered against his ribcage. Happiness coursed through his veins, more than when the Empty had taken him. 

“I should have said it sooner, I…” Dean bit his lip, looking as though he were attempting to grasp at the right words. But Dean had never been a wordsmith. Just hearing it was enough for Cas. 

“Dean….” Cas took a step toward him, intending to wrap him in a hug, but Dean took his face in his hands and pressed his lips to Cas’. Cas froze. He never wanted to move from this spot. Slowly, gently, he wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. He had never thought of himself as that much shorter than Dean, but Dean’s boots gave him an extra inch, and it was enough to make Cas have to tilt his head back to reach Dean’s lips. It felt right. When Dean broke away, Cas smiled up at him. 

“Hey, dinner’s… ready…” Cas turned to see Jack in the doorway, gawking at them with that look of innocent confusion so characteristic of him. “Were you guys kissing?” 

“Maybe,” Dean retorted defensively. Cas scoffed at his childlike reaction, and walked across the room to Jack. He embraced his child, warmth spreading through him. So this was what fatherhood felt like for humans. 

“I was so scared you wouldn’t come back,” Jack said softly. 

“I’ll always come back,” Cas assured him.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean took a bite of the chicken on the plate in front of him, and almost moaned. “Jody, this is amazing,” he said, mouth full. 

“It’s so easy to impress you,” Jody replied, her mouth also full, “And the girls helped too, they’re not the lazy freeloaders they appear to be.” 

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” Claire retorted, stabbing the chicken on her plate as if it were a werewolf’s heart. 

“You started eating without us?” Sam made his way into the kitchen, Eileen close behind him. Dean saw that they were holding hands. 

“We thought you might’ve been busy in the library.” Dean grinned at them. “Reading, of course.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, and Eileen smiled. They took seats across from each other at the already-crowded table, and dug into the plates set for them. 

“So what happened after I…?” Cas asked, trailing off. 

Dean’s mind went blank for a split second, as if his brain was gagging on the memory of Cas being taken away. But Cas’ knee was pressed against his, and he was human. He wasn’t going anywhere. “Well…” He racked his brain, trying to remember every detail for him. He decided to skip the part where he sat on the floor of the dungeon all night, sobbing and ignoring Sam’s calls. “You remember that Marvel movie we watched that one time? Where the big grape-looking dude snaps and everyone turns to dust? Chuck did that, except instead of half the universe, he did it to everyone.” Cas nodded. He saw Sam signing to Eileen at the other end of the table. “And then I got blackout drunk and forgot a bunch of stuff. Sam, you wanna take over?” Sam explained the rest of what had happened with Michael and Lucifer and Jack becoming God and restoring everyone and how Amara had taken God’s power when she left Jack’s body. He faced Eileen, signing here and there. When he finished, there was a long moment of silence. 

“So we’re all human?” Cas asked slowly. 

“In all our ape-like glory,” Dean said sarcastically. Miracle whined under the table, so he dropped a piece of chicken for him. 

“So what’s up with you guys?” Jack asked, turning to Jody. “Anything more exciting than killing God?” 

“Way more exciting,” Jody said, rolling her eyes, “Alex has been offered a new job in Minneapolis. I’m helping her move out in two weeks.” 

“Congratulations,” said Sam, signing furiously at Eileen. Her soft smile made Dean feel warm. She was so out of his little brother’s league. Then again, he had both shot and fist-fought God Himself. 

“Kaia and I got a campervan,” Claire added, “So it’s easier to travel for hunting.” 

“So you two are moving in together?” Dean asked. 

“As if they don’t already share a room most nights,” Alex teased. 

“Alex!” Claire yelled. Jody took a large sip from her glass of red wine. Kaia turned beet red. 

“Is this going to be a thing, where we bring up really awkward topics every time we have dinner with you?” Sam joked. 

“Starting to look like it,” Jody muttered. 

“I’m happy for you, Claire,” Cas said earnestly, “It’s good to see you find your happiness.” Dean couldn’t help but smile. 

“She’s going to get sick of me playing Taylor Swift all the time,” Kaia interjected, “But at least she won’t work herself up over all that emo music, The Cab, Panic! At The Disco, Fall Out–” 

“Okay, I get it, you hate my taste in music,” Claire interrupted, laughter forcing its way into her usual angry tone. 

“What kind of music do you listen to, Cas?” Alex asked. “I know Dean listens to crappy classic rock.” 

“Hey!” 

“I listen to Led Zeppelin,” Cas responded before stuffing a forkful of vegetables into his mouth. Dean’s stomach did a backflip. He meant the mixtape. 

“Seriously? No way, you do not seem like a Led Zeppelin kind of guy.” 

Cas shrugged. “I don’t know, that’s the only tape I have.” 

“Tape?” Claire echoed, “Like a cassette tape?” 

“What are you, four years old? Yes, a cassette tape,” Dean retorted. 

“What’s wrong with being four years old?” Jack asked, voice hurt. Cas chuckled. Dean realized he’d never heard Cas laugh like that before, so freely. His heart felt ready to burst. 

“Oh, man,” Jody said suddenly, “It’s going to be a late drive back to Sioux Falls.” 

“Why don’t you stay the night?” Sam offered. 

“Do you have the space?” Jody asked. 

“Sure we do,” Dean piped up, “You can take the guest room, and we can set up sleeping bags for the girls in the Dean Cave–” 

“Dean Cave?!” 

“Shut up, it’s awesome down there!” 

“Can I sleep in the Dean Cave too? Like a sleepover! That way Cas can have my room.” Jack said. 

Cas looked at Dean. He cleared his throat. This was way more awkward than he had anticipated. “Yeah, yeah, that’ll work.” He wasn’t quite ready to discuss… this with everyone. He wanted to tell Sam first, separate from everything else. He figured that Sam had suspected for a while, but it was hard to be sure. They sat in silence for a while, with only the sound of scraping forks ringing through the kitchen. 

Jack seemed to sense the awkwardness hanging in the air. “Can I go put on Star Wars?” 

“Sure thing, bud,” Dean said, “Hands off the alcohol.” 

“I’m coming with,” Claire announced, tossing her napkin onto her plate. Kaia followed Claire and Jack out of the kitchen. Alex chugged the last of her glass of water, and joined the rest of the mostly-teenagers. Miracle padded after them, tongue lolling. 

“Where am I sleeping?” Eileen asked. 

Sam looked at her in confusion. “I, uh, thought… um, you can have my room, and I can set something up in the…” He realized Eileen was smirking, and he smiled. “Or, uh, I guess my bed… has room for two….” 

Jody snorted. “I guess you two won’t be getting too much sleep tonight.” She finished the last sip of wine, then began to gather the dishes that Jack and the girls had left. Cas stood up to help her, and shooed the other three out of the kitchen when Dean dropped his empty beer bottle on the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

Jack gathered as many pillows, blankets, and sleeping bags into his arms as possible. He carried them from the linen closet into the Dean Cave, and dropped them on the floor in front of the TV. Claire and Kaia were sitting on the couch, Kaia’s legs in Claire’s lap, and Alex was curled up in one of the recliner chairs. Miracle was next to Claire, shedding on the dark grey fabric. Kaia was scrolling on her phone, and Claire had a glass of what was probably whiskey. Jack didn’t care, as long as Dean didn’t find out. 

“We can set up beds later,” Alex said, “Let’s start the movie.” Jack grinned, and put on A New Hope before settling into the other recliner. Jack liked the original movies the best. The newest trilogy wasn’t nearly as good. 

“Luke Skywalker is definitely gay,” Claire said, out of the blue. 

Alex opened her mouth to protest, then changed her mind. “You have a point.” 

“I have eyes,” Claire retorted, taking a sip of whiskey. 

“How can you tell?” Jack asked. 

“Have you seen him in Return of the Jedi? Fighting Jabba the Hut in his black V-neck and Chanel boots? I see you, Luke.” 

Jack was confused. “What’s shannell?” 

“Oh, Jack, don’t you ever go on the Internet?” 

Jack nodded. “I can hack credit card accounts. And police databases. Sam taught me.” He was rather proud of how quickly he’d picked it up. 

“No, I mean like memes,” Claire said. 

“Oh. Um, no.” 

“Oh we need to change that. Gimme your phone.” 

Jack took his phone from his back pocket and passed it to Claire. She tapped and scrolled furiously for a few minutes, while Han, Luke, Leia, and Chewie snuck around the Death Star. He worried a little bit about whatever it was she was up to. 

“What do you want your username to be?” 

“What?” 

“I’m signing you up for Instagram, Snapchat, and Twitter. What do you want your username to be?” 

“Can’t I just be Jack?” 

“Already taken. You gotta spice it up a bit.” She paused for a moment. Jack hoped she wasn’t waiting for an answer from him. “How about jack_kline_winchester?” 

“That sounds good.” It was his name, after all. 

“Claire, don’t put his last name on the Internet,” Alex chided, her eyes still on the movie. 

“Right. How about, uh… jack_jedi?” 

“Yes.” Being a jedi on social media sounded good. Claire tapped for another few minutes, switching between Jack’s phone and hers. 

“Alright, here you go.” Claire tossed Jack’s phone back to him. “I accepted my follow request for you. Now I can send you good memes.” 

“Thank you.” Jack scrolled through Claire’s social media feed for a minute, liking each picture of her, Kaia, her and Kaia, her truck, a sunset behind some corpses that weren’t quite cropped out of the shot, and more, before returning his attention to the X-wings flitting about the screen. The room echoed with the sound of blasters and lightsabers for a few more minutes before Claire got bored. 

“So, Dean and Cas,” she said in an exaggerated conversational tone. 

“What about them?” 

“Are they together?”

Jack was confused. “Together?” 

“Like, are they a couple?” 

“Oh.” Jack wracked his brain. “I’m… not sure.” He paused, thinking. Maybe he shouldn’t mention them kissing. That had seemed like a very private moment. He could feel the girls looking at him expectantly. “Cas is certainly closer to Dean than to Sam, what with their bond forged in Hell.” 

“Their– what?” Alex asked. 

“Their bond. When Cas rescued Dean from Hell, it left a mark on his soul. So they have a, uh… profound bond, as Cas puts it.” 

Claire snorted. “No homo.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

Jack wasn’t really sure what Claire had said, but Kaia seemed to think it was funny, so he smiled. These girls were family. He could trust them. 

“Actually, I did see them kissing earlier today.” 

Claire coughed, choking on a sip of whiskey. Kaia let out a loud laugh. 

“You what?” Alex said, rather loudly. 

“I mean, I think that’s what they were doing. They were standing really close, but they kind of do that a lot.” 

“Oh my god,” Claire rasped, eyes streaming. “That’s amazing. Oh my god. I mean, I could definitely see it with Cas, but Dean just seemed so… repressed.” She exhaled loudly, shaking her head and smiling. “Good for them, though.” 

“Yeah. I think Cas took so long because he wasn’t allowed to be happy.” 

There was a long pause, silence but for the Star Wars theme music playing as the credits rolled. “What?” Kaia finally asked. 

“He wasn’t allowed to be happy, or the Empty would take him.” His heart sunk to remember that day, when the Empty had invaded Heaven to take him. “He made a deal to save me, and the deal was that when he experienced true happiness, the Empty would take him.” He looked up and saw all three girls were looking at him with a puzzled expression. 

“So…” Claire started, “On the day everyone apparently got Thanos-snapped, Death chased Cas and Dean down to the dungeon–” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“–and while down there, Cas experienced true happiness.” 

“Yes.” 

“What was it?” Kaia asked. 

Jack furrowed his brow. He hadn’t had a chance to ask. He wasn’t sure if that was something he was allowed to know. “I don’t know.” 

“Huh,” Claire said, turning her attention back to her phone. Jack shrugged and started The Empire Strikes Back.


	11. Chapter 11

Sam was aware of Dean sitting at the table with them, but his focus was on Eileen. She was telling him about some vamp hunt she’d been on where the nest had run a ranch and drank cows. A new member had attacked a few townspeople, so she’d had to intervene. 

“...the man had been diagnosed with cancer, so they turned him to save his life. But he just couldn’t handle it,” Eileen finished, shrugging. 

“A shame,” Sam offered, signing along with the words. He wasn’t really paying attention to everything she was saying, if he was being totally honest. He watched her signing and speaking as she moved on to a new story, a ghost hunt in Florida. The way her eyes lit up, the way she nodded her head as she signed. 

He started as movement caught the corner of his eye. It was Cas, coming in from the kitchen, two beers in his hands. Jody was following, wine glass and bottle in hand. 

“Alrighty, folks, who’s up for a game of cards?” Jody asked, setting the bottle of wine on the table with a solid thump. 

Sam took a moment to sign to Eileen, who had not been facing Jody. 

“I’m a bit tired from my drive,” Eileen said. She pushed herself away from the table, her eyes trained on Sam. He wasn’t sure exactly what she was planning, but he figured he should follow. 

“I think I’ll join you,” Sam piped up, pushing his chair out with a loud scraping noise. He could feel Dean smirking at him, but honestly, he didn’t care. His heart was hammering against his ribs, and he felt butterflies in his stomach. 

“I don’t know any card games,” he heard Cas say. 

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll teach you,” Dean responded. 

When they reached the hallway, Sam reached down and took Eileen’s hand. She looked up at him and smiled. He felt his heart melting right then and there. 

[I love you,] he signed with his free hand. Her smile grew wider. She stopped walking, gently pulled his hand so that he was facing her, and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Sam leaned down to meet her, closing his eyes. He reached up with the hand that she wasn’t holding and laced his fingers into her hair. He felt her other hand trace its way up his chest, resting where his shirt hid his anti-possession tattoo. She leaned into him, and though he could’ve held the two of them up easily, he let her press him against the cold tiled wall, savoring the feel of her body flush against his. It wasn’t so long ago, he recalled, that she was just a ghost, newly escaped from Hell. He would forever be grateful for this second chance. Her lips moved gently against his, like waves in water. 

Eileen broke away, and Sam opened his eyes. She pulled his hand, leading him back to his bedroom. She opened the door and pulled him inside, reaching behind his neck to pull his lips to hers. He kicked his door closed, then put his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as they stumbled to his bed. As soon as the backs of her legs hit the edge of the bed, she twisted her leg around his, causing Sam to turn around and fall back, sinking into the mattress with the weight of Eileen pinning him down. She climbed on top of him, and traced the muscles in his neck, down to the top button of his flannel. 

Lips still moving against his, she unbuttoned his flannel, working her way down his torso. Cool air washed over Sam’s chest, and he sighed against Eileen’s mouth. He tugged at the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head. He dropped the shirt on the floor, then softly ran his fingers down her back, feeling soft skin over muscles hardened from hunting. She frowned slightly, then leaned down and kissed the scar on his shoulder, left over from his bullet wound from God. The memory was not so far in the past; Chuck had kidnapped him and Eileen, and forced Eileen to carve into the wound in an attempt to sever the bond between him and Chuck. He didn’t blame her for what had happened, and he knew that Eileen knew it, but he also knew first-hand how guilt whispered horrid uncertainties in a person’s ear.

[I love you,] he signed again, then kissed her gently on the temple. She ran a hand through his hair, then leaned down again to kiss the scar. He let his head fall back, his hands drifting down to rest on her hips as she kissed his neck, collarbone, and chest. He ran his fingers up and down Eileen’s back, letting his fingernails drag lightly across her skin. She stopped, and Sam lifted his head to look her in the eyes. She was smiling at him, the corners of her eyes crinkled with joy. Sam smiled back, joy bubbling through him like a geyser. This was it. She was it. The life he wanted. Maybe they’d stay in the bunker, maybe they’d move out to a place of their own, maybe they’d quit the hunting life, maybe not, but whatever happened, he wanted it to be with her.


	12. Chapter 12

“How are you so good at this?” Dean complained, taking the haphazard pile of cards and adding it to his hand. Cas grinned over his meagre four cards, and Jody laughed over her hand, which was also a great deal smaller than Dean’s. “Should I be worried that you’re this good at lying?” 

“I did manage to deceive you for nearly a year while working with Crowley,” Cas pointed out, “And deceived him in order to absorb all the souls in Purgatory.” He figured the event was far enough in the past to be brought up in a humorous way. Dean scoffed, and Cas smiled at him. 

“Crowley,” Jody groaned, “Worst date ever. Two threes.” 

“Bullshit!” Dean yelled, “I have all four.” 

“One four,” Cas said, setting the card gingerly on the table. 

“Bullshit!” 

“Wrong. It is, in fact, a four.” Cas slid the card over to Dean. 

“Damn it!” He grumbled as he pawed through his hand, pulling out four different cards. Cas smiled softly as he watched his brow crease in concentration. “Four fives.” 

“Bullshit,” Jody crooned, “I have a five.” 

“Shit!” 

“Two sixes,” Jody declared. Nobody said anything. 

“One seven.” Cas looked at Dean, daring him to challenge his claim. 

“I’m not risking it this time,” Dean said, shaking his head, “Two eights.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“Damn it, Cas!” Dean grabbed the cards angrily, adding them to his hand. He rifled through them, then looked at Cas in mock accusation. “You played a king!” 

“It’s a game of lying, is it not?” 

“One nine!” Jody yelled. 

“Two tens,” Cas said, laying his last two cards on the table. 

“Bullshit!” Dean yelled. 

With a flourish, Cas turned over the cards to reveal two tens. Dean dropped his hand– really, the deck– and the cards scattered across the table. 

Jody laughed, laying her few remaining cards down and taking another sip of wine. “Beginner’s luck?” 

“Perhaps,” Cas conceded. 

“Or one hell of a poker face,” Dean grumbled, taking a large sip of his beer. Cas smiled. It was amusing how much of a sore loser Dean was being. “Another round?” 

“Nah, I should get some shut-eye,” Jody replied, “The kids are going to stay up all night, so I’m going to be driving everyone home in the morning.” 

“Fair enough.” Dean stood, leaving the deck of cards scattered on the table. “I could use some shut-eye as well. Busy day.” 

Cas nodded in agreement. He wasn’t really tired, since he’d been asleep for days in the Empty, but now that he was human, he needed sleep. Jody called out a goodnight to them, and Cas watched her disappear into the hallway. 

“You don’t have to stay in Jack’s room if you don’t want,” Dean said quickly. Cas looked up at him. He was blushing. It was rather cute. 

“Where else would I sleep?” Cas asked, knowing very well what the answer was going to be. 

“Well– I mean– you could, uh, spend the night with… with me,” Dean stammered. 

“That would be nice,” Cas replied, standing. Dean smiled at him softly. He followed Dean down the hall to his room, his insides exploding with butterflies. Once they were in Dean’s room, Cas turned to Dean, unsure of what to say or do. 

Dean did not seem to share Cas’ uncertainty. As soon as the door was latched, Dean took Cas’ face in his hands, calluses rubbing against his skin, and kissed him, working his jaw against Cas’. Cas grabbed onto Dean’s flannel, pulling him close, and let Dean kiss him, savoring every fraction of a second. All of a sudden, Dean shrugged off his flannel, then pulled off his T-shirt, displaying muscles stretched taut under his scarred skin. The black ink of his anti-possession tattoo on his collarbone contrasted drastically with his skin. It looked like a dark sun. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, grabbing at his T-shirt. Cas shrugged off Dean’s robe and lifted his arms as Dean pulled off his shirt, then wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean walked the two of them the few feet to Dean’s bed, and laid Cas gently down onto the mattress. He liked feeling Dean’s weight on top of him, their bodies pressed together. Dean broke away from Cas’ mouth, and kissed him along his jawline, and down to his neck, gingerly touching his soft lips to the cut where Cas had lost his grace. Cas slid one arm around Dean’s waist, gripping his shoulder with the other. 

“How long?” Dean whispered, “How long have you been in love with me?” 

Cas sighed happily. “Since I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” he whispered back. He felt Dean exhale sharply against his neck. “What about you?” 

“I realized it in Purgatory. The first time, when I thought you had left me, when you….” Dean inhaled deeply. Cas pushed away the memory of Purgatory. It didn’t belong here. “But I fell a long time ago. It must have been in Hell, because I honestly don’t remember.” 

Cas smiled, and Dean planted another kiss on his lips. Happiness coursed through his veins like fire. He never dared to think he could actually have something like this, and now he was holding Dean Winchester, kissing Dean Winchester, loving and being loved by Dean Winchester.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, some mentioned homophobia from Dad Of The Year, John Winchester. References an entry in John's journal about Dean's first solo hunt.

Though Dean felt awake, he thought he had to be dreaming. He inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of his shampoo in Cas’ hair. His left arm was curled under his pillow, his bicep acting as a pillow for Cas. His right hand was resting on Cas’ hip. Cas’ right arm was curled against his bare chest, his left wrapped around Dean’s waist. Dean was hesitant to move, lest he wake Cas, but his bladder demanded otherwise. 

Slowly, gently, he untangled himself from the former angel, moving the pillow to where his arm had been. Cas stirred and sighed, but did not wake. Dean went into the bathroom and relieved himself, then pulled on the pair of jeans he had been wearing the night before and a T-shirt he found on the floor, though he couldn’t remember if he or Cas had been wearing it the night before. He left his room, closing the door softly behind him, and made his way to the kitchen. Sam was there, staring at his laptop over a mug of coffee. 

“Mornin’,” Dean said, his throat raspy from sleep. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat across the table from Sam. “What are you up to?” 

“Making sure Amara’s keeping her word,” Sam grumbled. “Seems like she is.” 

Dean took a sip of coffee. It warmed his stomach, driving away the last of his tiredness. “Sam, like you said, we won. She promised. Rowena is in charge of Hell, Heaven isn’t meddling, Chuck is gone.” He felt joy bubbling up in him as he realized what this meant. “Sammy, we’re free.” 

“It looks like you’re right. All we have left is the regular monsters. I found a case in Nebraska that looks like vampires.” 

“That’s nothing we can’t handle,” Dean said, nodding. “Hell, it’s nothing someone else can’t handle.” 

Sam looked at him quizzically. “Someone else?” 

Dean shrugged. He hadn’t dared think of it, but honestly, the two of them had done so much for the world. Retirement sounded great. “Why not? We’ve saved the world how many times now, and Chuck isn’t writing the story anymore.” He sipped his coffee. “Retirement doesn’t sound too bad to me.” 

Sam stayed silent for a long moment, lost in thought. “I don’t know, man, the life has kind of grown on me. And, like you said, Eileen gets it, she’s in it with me.” He smiled softly. 

Dean chuckled. “You’re in deep, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah,” Sam replied, “Yeah, I am.” 

“I’m happy for you, man. I am.” 

The two of them sat in silence, sipping coffee, while Sam scrolled through news feeds on his computer. After a while, Sam closed the computer, and they sat with their own thoughts for a while. Dean knew he should tell Sam about Cas. Sam probably knew more than he let on anyway. 

“Did I tell you about the night Cas… got taken?” Dean asked, his mouth going dry. He shouldn’t be nervous, he knew Sam would understand, but he couldn’t help it. 

“N–no,” Sam stuttered, surprised at the question. Dean could see the curiosity in his eyes, and knew there was no going back now. 

“When Jack died, after Lucifer stole his grace, the Empty wanted to take him. Cas made a deal with the Empty, and it would be summoned when Cas allowed himself to experience true happiness.” He saw Sam frown, but powered on. “Billie had us cornered. I… she wanted to kill me. We knew we couldn’t fight her.” He took a deep breath. “Cas… he summoned the Empty, and it took him and Billie away.” 

Sam nodded, then frowned. “What… how?” 

“He told me that he loved me.” 

Sam stared at Dean in disbelief. “He what?” 

“He said…” Dean swallowed thickly, the words coming back to him. “He said that he cared about the whole world because of me. And he said he loved me.” 

Sam looked down, looking like he had a million different thought careening through his head. Then he looked back up at Dean. “And… do you… love him?” 

Dean felt as though his chest were about to explode with nerves. “Yes.” 

Sam scoffed. “I knew it.” 

“You–” Dean shook his head. Of course he knew. “Since when?” 

“I don’t know, man, but… they way you two are together, I just… you weren’t as subtle as you thought you were, man.” 

Dean laughed. “No, I guess not.” 

“So….” Sam trailed off, and ran a hand through his hair. “How long have you… how do I put this… liked men?” 

Dean grimaced. He figured this conversation would come with the Cas conversation, but he didn’t like remembering all those years he’d questioned himself, punished himself. “I figured it out while I was at Sonny’s. When Dad left me in the boys’ home, when I was sixteen.” 

“That’s…” Sam furrowed his brows, and Dean remained quiet while Sam formulated his next question. “Did Dad know?” 

Dean stayed silent a moment, remembering an offhand comment about kissing another boy, his father’s stony silence, and a case on his seventeenth birthday, the corpses of two nuns burning in unmarked graves. “Yes. I told him that I’d….” He swallowed thickly. He hadn’t anticipated the memories to hurt this badly. “I told him, a few weeks after he’d picked me up from Sonny’s and he… he made it clear that I… that he didn’t… approve.” He knew that the wording was weak, that it didn’t do justice to the years of fear and self-loathing, but he couldn’t bring himself to tarnish his father’s memory any more. 

Sam clenched his jaw, but didn’t say anything for a long time. Dean stood, refilled his coffee mug, and sat back down. 

“So you’re….” Sam trailed off, looking up at Dean. 

“Bisexual.” The word felt strange on his tongue, foreign, almost dirty. He didn’t like to think what his dad would say to that, so he pushed the thought and watched Sam nod approvingly. 

“Well, cheers,” Sam said, lifting his coffee mug. Dean lifted his, nodding slightly, then took a sip. Sam did the same. 

“We should get breakfast going,” Dean said, feeling awkward. He didn’t like opening up like this, even to his brother. He’d hidden this for so long, it felt strange to have it out there and said. It was like he had it tattooed on his forehead. 

Dean stood and took a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. Internally, he thanked Jody. She’d gotten a new carton, and plenty of other groceries. He and Sam had neglected to make a grocery run for a while now, and it was painfully obvious. He tossed the carton gently onto the counter, then pulled a large package of bacon from the freezer. That they always had plenty of. Sam was pulling pancake mix from the pantry. The two brothers set to work, the smell of food wafting through the bunker.


	14. Chapter 14

Jack woke to the smell of bacon. This was not abnormal, but he hadn’t been expecting it. His stomach growled. He lifted his phone to check the time. 09:13. He groaned softly. Sure, it was better than the Winchesters’ usual early mornings, but he and Claire and Kaia had been scrolling through memes for hours last night; he was tired. He thought of the coffeepot in the kitchen, and that motivated him to sit up. 

He looked around the room as he stretched. Alex was stretched out on the couch with a quilt, and Claire and Kaia were on the floor next to Jack, their hands resting next to each other on the blankets as though they had been holding hands as they fell asleep. 

Jack stood and padded quietly out of the Dean Cave and down the hall. He was cold, and wanted his sweatshirt, but it was in his room, where Cas was sleeping. He figured he could make it in and out quietly, though. 

He opened the door to his room quietly, and grabbed the sweatshirt from the chair by his desk. Then he realized that his bed was empty. Fear dropped into the pit of his stomach. Had the Empty taken Cas back? He walked out to the library, but it was empty as well. Panic mounting in his chest, he jogged to the kitchen. Sam and Dean were peacefully cooking breakfast while Miracle lay on the floor, staring longingly at the plate of bacon on the counter. 

“Where’s Cas?” Jack asked. Sam laughed loudly. Jack looked at him in confusion, as did Dean. 

“Cas was supposed to sleep in Jack’s room, remember?” he said to Dean. 

“Ah,” said Dean, nodding. He bit his lip. “Uh, Cas is in my room. Don’t worry.” 

“Oh.” Jack let his shoulders relax, and walked across the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. As he began to shovel sugar into the mug, he froze, then turned to Dean. “He slept with you?” 

Sam laughed again as Dean’s face flushed red. Jack had never seen him so flustered. He was usually so cool and collected about this kind of thing. 

“Uh, yeah, he, uh, spent the night with me.” He turned his attention back to the pan full of bacon. 

“Who spent the night with you?” Jack turned to see Claire saunter into the kitchen and grab a piece of bacon from the plate next to the stove. She bit off part of it and threw the other half to Miracle, all the while giving Dean a look that Jack couldn’t decipher, but apparently Dean could. 

“Your dad,” he said flatly. 

Claire choked on her bacon. “That’s low,” she said, coughing. Dean grinned. Sam was staring at Dean with a look of wonder. 

Jack took a sip of his coffee, and smiled at the taste. Simultaneously overly sweet and incredibly bitter. There were perks to being human, that was for sure. 

“You’re not surprised?” Dean asked uncertainly. Jack hadn’t realized that the relationship between him and Cas was such a sensitive topic. 

“You’re not subtle,” Claire said, shrugging and taking another bite of bacon. 

“Wow.” Dean threw up his hands. “Did everyone know?” 

“Yes,” Sam said. Dean turned to him with an offended look on his face. 

“Congratulations, though,” Claire commented, making her way over to the coffee station. Jack moved aside to give her room. “Thought you’d never make a move.” 

“I am not talking about this right now,” Dean said, exasperated. Claire snorted into her mug of coffee. 

“I don’t know what you’re not talking about, but please ignore her,” said Jody, walking into the kitchen and making a beeline for the coffee pot, “She’s a pain in the ass.” 

“Thank you,” Claire replied in an exaggerated sweet voice. Jack made his way to the table to avoid the growing crowd by the counter. 

“Okay, Claire, if you’re hungry just make yourself a damn plate, stop eating all the bacon,” Dean scolded. Claire flipped him the bird, grabbed a plate, and shoveled half of the cooked bacon onto it. She grabbed some pancakes from the stack next to the griddle, then took a seat across from Jack at the table. Just then, Eileen entered the room, wearing an oversized flannel that Jack recognized as Sam’s. 

“Good morning,” she said, signing the words as well. Sam signed it back, spatula waving wildly in his hand, and Dean smiled and nodded at her. “Is that bacon?” 

“Yes, it is,” Dean replied, deliberately making eye contact with her, “Claire took most of it.” Claire flipped him off again as she took a large bite out of a plain pancake that she was eating with her hands. Eileen made herself a plate and joined the two teenagers at the table. Jody grabbed a piece of bacon and sat herself across from Eileen. Sam finished cooking the last of the pancakes, made a plate, and joined them at the table. 

“Found a vamp case in Nebraska,” he said, signing to Eileen, “Who wants to go? Looks like there aren’t many, we should only need two or three people to take care of it.” 

“Why don’t you two take it?” Claire said, turning to face Eileen and nodding at Sam, “I’ve got a werewolf case lined up a couple of hours from here.” 

“How the hell did you miss that one, Sam?” Dean said, taking the pans for the eggs and bacon off of the stovetop. 

“I’ve got a friend online, a mortician, sent me pictures of a body the other day. Vic worked at an animal shelter, it was reported as a dog attack, but the heart was missing, so.” She shrugged. 

“The wonders of the Internet,” Dean mused as he found a seat next to Eileen. 

“Yeah, Sam, we can take care of the vamps,” Eileen said, shrugging at him. 

“Sounds good,” Sam agreed. 

“You guys really went all-out,” Alex said, entering the kitchen and making a plate. Kaia trailed behind her, following suit. 

“Anything for our favorite band of obnoxious teenagers,” Dean said through a mouthful of eggs. Alex and Kaia sat next to each other at the end of the table. 

“Cas is really sleeping in, huh,” Sam commented airily. Dean looked up quickly, then pretended to ignore him. 

“Yeah, someone must’ve kept him up really late,” Claire mused, sarcasm bleeding from her voice. 

“Oh, yeah, and how late were you kids up watching Star Wars?” Jody asked. 

“Not that late,” Claire said. 

“About three in the morning,” Jack answered more truthfully. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jody mused. 

“Yeah, well, we were introducing Jack to the world of memes,” Kaia offered. 

“Oh no,” Jody groaned, “Not another victim of the Internet.” 

“I thought they were very entertaining,” Jack said. He didn’t understand what the fuss was all about. 

“Have fun with him,” Jody said to Sam. 

“Hey, good morning, sunshine!” Dean called out over the ruckus at the table. Jack turned to see Cas walk into the kitchen, wearing Dean’s robe and a Led Zeppelin shirt. 

“Good morning,” Cas replied, nodding his greetings to the rest of the table. He walked to the counter and served himself a plate before sitting next to Dean. 

Alex jumped, then pulled her phone from her back pocket. “I need to take this,” she said, then stood and left the kitchen. 

“What was that?” Dean asked Jody. Claire turned to Sam and Eileen and began to passionately explain a new bullet treatment she had come up with that would have an effect on any silver-affected monster, vampires, and spirits. 

“Probably her new roommates in Minneapolis,” Jody said to Dean, “They’ve been planning how to decorate the place for weeks, and they’re already up there at the apartment.” Jack found this conversation to be rather boring, so he turned his attention to Claire’s bullets. 

“Do you think you could mix the dead man’s blood with holy water? So it works on demons too?” Sam asked Claire. 

“I don’t see why not,” Claire replied, “Although now that you say your friend Rowena is in charge, doesn’t sound like demons will be a huge issue anymore.” 

“You never know,” Sam said, shrugging. 

“Angels shouldn’t be bothering anyone anytime soon,” Cas chimed in, “Their numbers are rather small at the moment, and besides, they have no reason to come to Earth.” 

“That’s good to hear,” Claire said, “No offense.” 

“None taken.” 

“We should get packing for that vamp case,” Eileen interjected, signing to Sam. Sam nodded, took a last bite of his eggs, and left the table, following Eileen out of the kitchen. 

“Jack, do you want to come with me and Kaia on this werewolf hunt?” Claire asked. Jack paused, looking to Dean and Cas. 

“Where’d you say this hunt was?” Dean asked Claire. 

“A couple hours away, in some nowhere town. There’s only been one death reported, so it can’t be too many wolves. I’d say a two day hunt at the most.” 

“Fine by me,” Dean said, turning to Cas. 

“You can go, Jack,” Cas agreed. 

Jack grinned, and turned back toward Claire. “Yes, I’d like very much to come.” 

“Sweet. We’ll head out in half an hour?” 

“Hold your horses,” Jody scolded, “You aren’t going to help clean up for your hosts?” 

“Nah, Jody, it’s all good,” Dean said, “Jack should go pack.” 

“Are you girls packed?” Jody asked, turning to Claire and then Kaia. 

“Yeah, we were about to head there when Dean called about the spell,” Claire replied nonchalantly. She stood and took her plate to the sink, setting it down with a loud clattering noise. 

“And the camper we’re looking to buy is in the next town over,” Kaia added, “We can drop Jack back here after we go take a look at it.” 

“Sounds like fun!” Jack took his plate to the sink, then left the kitchen. His first hunt without any of his dads. He liked Claire and Kaia, they would be fun to hunt with. He went into his room and pulled out his traveling duffel. Shirts, guns, pants, underwear, angel blade, silver-tipped blade, phone charger, tablet with the online bunker archives. He stared at the bag for a moment, marveling at the prospect of this new adventure. He was going to be a good hunter. He knew how to fight; Bobby had taught him when he first became human. He hadn’t been much use, but they’d been up against demons. Besides, Dean and Cas thought he was ready. He felt ready. He had been God yesterday. How hard could a werewolf be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be posting much more infrequently from now on, I don't have as much time to write with classes starting. Thanks to those who have been showing support, this is my first attempt at fanfic!


	15. Chapter 15

Cas watched and waved as the three cars left the bunker; Jody and Alex back to Sioux Falls, Sam and Eileen to somewhere in Nebraska, and Jack, Claire, and Kaia to their werewolf case. Miracle chased after Claire’s car for a moment, then turned and padded back to Cas’ side. 

“Shall we go clean up breakfast?” Dean asked, resting a hand on Cas’ shoulder. Cas nodded and followed him back into the bunker. Miracle pushed past his leg and led the way down the stairs. They made their way into the kitchen, and Cas began to gather plates from the table. 

“I figured we could just have a chill day, go for a drive, take Miracle for a walk, maybe watch some TV later,” Dean said, turning to look as Cas as he tossed a spoonful of leftover eggs onto the floor for Miracle. 

“That sounds enjoyable,” Cas agreed, taking the plates to the sink, “Did you have a movie in mind?” 

“Tombstone?” Dean shoved the last piece of bacon into his mouth, then put the plate in the sink. His hip brushed against Cas’, and he wondered if it was intentional. 

“We’ve already seen that one,” Cas said, turning on the sink, “But if you’d like, we can watch it again.” 

“I mean, if you don’t want to….” 

“It was an enjoyable movie. We can watch it again.” Cas scrubbed a plate absent–mindedly as he watched Dean gather the pans and deposit them next to the sink. He then grabbed a dish towel and began drying the few plates Cas had cleaned, so Cas returned his attention to the task. He liked just existing with Dean, not worrying about the next world–ending problem they had to face. Dean put a small stack of plates away in the cabinet, then leaned against the counter for a moment, watching Cas. Cas pretended not to notice. 

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Dean asked. 

Cas paused. “I’m not sure. Miracle will need a walk at some point, surely....” 

“True.” Dean nodded. 

Cas turned off the sink and turned to face him. “Did you have something in mind?” 

Dean seemed to have been waiting for Cas to ask him this question. “What do you think about retiring? Quitting the life?” 

“I hadn’t thought about it.” Cas turned away from Dean, letting his thoughts take over for a moment. They could do this for the rest of their lives; wake up together, make breakfast, just exist together. He couldn’t help but smile. “It would be nice.” 

“Chuck is gone,” Dean explained, as if he had to defend this idea, “And Amara promised to leave Earth alone. Heaven and Hell are under wraps. It’s just the regular, everyday monsters. Other hunters can handle those. And–” 

“Dean,” Cas interrupted. Dean stopped talking immediately. “You don’t need to justify it. You deserve peace, after all you’ve done. Life will go on; you and Sam have ensured that.” 

Dean was silent for a long moment, staring at Cas, as though he’d just heard something lifechanging. 

“Well,” he said finally, “You helped too.” He wrapped his arm around Cas and pulled him close, pressing his lips to Cas’. Cas closed his eyes, savoring the feel of Dean’s mouth on his. 

Miracle whined, bringing Cas back to the bunker’s kitchen. 

“Oh, I forgot to give you your breakfast, didn’t I?” Dean cooed to the dog. Cas felt his heart melting in his chest as he watched Dean dig through the cupboards for something that could serve as dog food, muttering about needing to go grocery shopping. “Men of Letters used to have a cat, I guess,” Dean commented as he pulled out a few rusty cans of wet cat food from a top shelf. His shirt lifted as he reached upwards, revealing a stretch of bare skin above his pants. Cas turned back to the dishes in the sink, his cheeks warm. 

The two of them finished cleaning up the kitchen, then made their way back to Dean’s room to get ready to go out. Cas put on his shoes, and picked up his trench coat from where it was slung over the back of Dean’s desk chair. He frowned at the bloodstain. 

“Sorry about that,” said Dean. Cas turned to see him shrugging on his army-green jacket over a red-and-black checked flannel. 

“It will wash out,” Cas replied. 

“Here, you can borrow some of mine,” Dean offered, pulling a gray flannel and a navy blue wool jacket from his wardrobe. 

Cas took the clothes in his hand, his fingers brushing against Dean’s. Dean did not let go of the jacket, but instead stepped toward Cas, laced his fingers in his hair, and kissed him a second time. Cas leaned into Dean, working his jaw. Dean bit gently at his lower lip. Cas wanted to do this for longer, but if they did then Miracle would never get his walk, so Cas pulled away and put on the flannel and jacket. 

He followed Dean out into the hallway and to the garage, where the Impala was parked. Miracle trotted a step in front of Dean, toenails clicking on the cement. He made his way to the passenger’s seat, smiling at the perfect condition of the vehicle. It was obvious how much love and care Dean put into this car. He opened the door and settled into the leather seat. Miracle jumped up through the driver’s side door and settled in the middle of the bench as Dean made himself comfortable in the driver’s seat. The engine roared when Dean started it, the sound amplified in the closed space. Cas leaned his head against the glass of the window as Dean drove the car out into the bright sunlight and up the dirt road leading away from the bunker. Dean pushed a button on the radio, and a song blared through the speakers. Cas recognized it from his mixtape, but he couldn’t remember the name of the song. He watched Dean nod his head to the music and stroke Miracle’s ears as they rolled onto a highway lightly populated with semis and lined with fields. 

Something caught Dean’s attention, and he slowed down the Impala ever so slightly. Cas opened his mouth to ask what was the matter, but stopped when he saw what Dean was looking at. It was a roadhouse, one Cas had passed by many times while driving to and from the bunker, but today it had a “For Sale” sign out front. Dean looked as though he wanted to stop, but he put his foot back on the gas and continued toward town. 

“Did you want to stop and take a look?” Cas asked. 

Dean paused a moment before answering. “It’s alright, we don’t need to.” 

“You seem interested.” 

“It’s nothing, just a stupid idea I had.” Dean was obviously lying. 

“You can tell me,” Cas pressed. 

Dean shrugged. “I always thought opening up my own roadhouse would be nice. Have my own place, get to meet new people, hell, maybe even make it a spot for hunters, like Ellen’s place.” 

Cas nodded. “We could take a look on our way back,” he suggested. 

Dean looked at him and grinned, then turned his attention back to the road. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Cas ran his hand through Miracle’s fur, imagining it. After all his years as a leader of garrisons, serving Heaven, it would be nice to have his own place with the man he loved, serving the humble traveler.


	16. Chapter 16

Sam glanced over to the passenger’s seat, where Eileen was reading a book she’d taken from the Men of Letters library. It had anatomical diagrams of various monsters, and a great deal of text that Sam was curious to read once they got to the motel. Sam had his phone hooked up to the car’s stereo system, shamelessly playing Celine Dion. He reviewed the details of the case in his head; three victims in two weeks, throats ripped out, all near the same bar, no witnesses. It sounded to him like a matter of hanging around this bar for a night, waiting for someone to get jumped and intervening before they got killed. The two of them might not even need to use their fake badges. That was slightly disappointing; he kind of wanted to see Eileen in a suit. But there would be other opportunities for that, on other hunts. 

He reached over and took Eileen’s hand, just holding it in the middle seat. She looked at him and smiled, and he grinned back before turning back to the road. For the rest of the drive, they did not speak or sign, just reveled in each others’ company. 

They were free. No more Chuck. No more meddling, no more world-ending threats. The fate of the world no longer rested on his shoulders. Just the fate of a few people facing vampires or other run-of-the-mill monsters. The two of them could handle that just fine. 

Sam slowed the car as they made their way into town. They passed the bar where the victims had disappeared, and he gestured towards it to point it out to Eileen. She nodded back at him. He pulled into the motel parking lot a few blocks down, and turned off the engine. The two of them exited the car and made their way to the front office to check in. 

“Room for two,” Sam said to the blue-haired teenager at the front desk. 

They popped their gum, grabbed a key from the back wall, and slid it across the counter. “That’s $59 a night, plus $150 safety deposit.” 

Sam handed the kid his credit card. He suddenly remembered that day when he and Dean had helped Garth with that monster fight club, and they’d been faced with “normal” problems, causing all their credit cards to fail. But the machine beeped and the kid made no comment as they passed Sam’s card back to him. 

“Thanks,” he said, and he and Eileen walked back to the car to get their bags. Eileen bumped his thigh with her hip as they walked, and he reached down to hold her hand for a moment before they reached the car. 

Once settled in the room, Sam sat on the bed with his laptop while Eileen continued to read the book she had started in the car. He searched through the local police databases, looking at photos of the victims’ bodies and reading reports. 

“Should we head over to that bar and talk to the bartender?” Eileen asked, breaking the silence. 

“That sounds good,” Sam replied, making sure to sign as well as face toward her. He closed his laptop and stood from the bed. Eileen did the same, leaving the book on the bedside table. Sam was shrugging on his coat when he realized that Eileen was pulling a suit bag from the closet. 

She looked at him, staring like an idiot, and shrugged. “Might as well.” 

Sam suppressed a large grin and grabbed his own suit. Eileen went into the bathroom to change, and Sam stayed in the room, trying to be as quick as possible. He was fumbling with his tie when Eileen exited the bathroom. 

It was better than Sam had even hoped. Her blazer followed the curve of her waist perfectly, and the V-necked shirt dipped down her chest, though not so far as to be unprofessional. She smiled at him, and he grinned back, well aware that his melting heart was showing plainly on his face. He realized that he still hadn’t done his tie, and forced his eyes off of her to try again to tie it. Before he knew what was happening, Eileen was there, tying it for him. Her closeness was intoxicating. When she finished the knot, she looked up at him, and Sam couldn’t help it, he leaned down and kissed her, laying his hands gently on her waist, trying not to mess up her suit. She kissed him back, then pulled away. 

[We should go,] she signed. Sam nodded, but he wished desperately that they could just stay here. He supposed they could pick up when they got back. The two of them grabbed their guns and machetes before heading out to the car. 

When they entered the bar, Sam thought of Dean. This was his kind of joint; loud, casual, carefree, with a pool table and a stage with a karaoke machine. It was only mid-afternoon, so not many people were there, but the few who were there seemed to be enjoying themselves. He made his way to the bar, where a hard-faced woman in a football T-shirt was wiping down the counter. 

“Good afternoon,” she greeted, “What can I get you?” 

“We’re here on business,” Eileen said, taking out her badge. Sam did the same. 

The woman ran her eyes over both badges, and set down the dish towel. “Ain’t this town a little small to be drawing in feds?” 

“Small towns pay the taxes on our salary too,” Eileen retorted. 

The woman shrugged. “Fair enough. What do you need from me?” 

“A few people have been found dead around here,” Sam explained, “All have had the same cause of death, all were headed home from this bar.” He pulled up a picture of the most recent victim on his phone, and showed it to her. “This was the most recent death.” 

The woman squinted at the phone for a moment, then recoiled in shock. “Rodney Quintz is dead?” she exclaimed. 

“Yes, three days ago,” Eileen replied. 

The woman clapped a hand over her mouth. “He was one of my regulars. A friend, really.” Eileen glanced at Sam, unable to understand the woman with her mouth covered. 

“Did you notice anything strange that night?” Sam pressed. “Did he leave with anyone?” 

The woman lowered her hand and looked at Sam. “Yes, actually. He left with this girl, Paisley I think she said her name was. New in town.” 

“Any idea where we can find her?” 

“Here, tonight, most likely,” the bartender replied, shrugging. 

“Thank you,” Sam said, turning to Eileen as they made their way to the exit. 

[I got it,] she signed. 

[Come back tonight?] Sam signed back, mouthing the words. 

[Yes. Grab some dinner?] 

[Sounds good.] 

Eileen took Sam’s hand, and he squeezed her fingers lightly as they walked to the diner two blocks down from the bar.


	17. Chapter 17

Jack hadn’t known what to expect from a hunt with kids his age (or at least the age he pretended to be), but he liked this. Kaia had her phone hooked up to the stereo, and was playing Taylor Swift, who she said was the best artist of this decade. Jack hadn’t heard much music from this decade, but he definitely liked this. Despite Claire’s insistence that she did not like Taylor Swift, she sang along to the lyrics with Kaia. 

“And snakes and stones never broke my bones!” the girls screamed to the stereo. Jack smiled, nodding his head to the beat and watching the two of them dance in their seats. He was glad to see Kaia so happy, especially after the hell he’d unintentionally put her through, trapping her in the Bad Place. He supposed it was better than being dead, as they’d originally thought. At least now she was back in her correct world, dancing to pop music with Claire, and with a place to call home and people to call family. 

The song finished, and Claire turned down the radio, glancing in the rearview mirror at Jack. “Hey, Jack, did I tell you the details of the case yet?” 

“The victim was working at an animal shelter,” Jack recalled, “So it was written off as a dog attack. But your friend said the heart was missing.” 

“Yup. The town’s kind of middle-of-nowhere, island in a sea of cornfields kind of place, so it’s a little weird that this is the first and only attack.” 

“Huh.” Jack thought a moment. “Maybe they were just passing through?” 

“That’s what I thought. That, or the wolf is newly turned. Question is, how’d they get turned.” 

“That is a good question.” Jack turned to the window, staring at the passing fields. 

Claire listened to a few more of Taylor Swift’s songs before getting bored. “Who wants to play truth or dare?” She blurted out. 

“We can’t do dares in the car,” Kaia argued. 

“We’re going to be spending the night at the motel, you or Jack can write them down and we’ll do them later.” 

“Okay, okay.” Kaia pulled a notepad and pencil from the backpack at her feet. “Who’s first?” 

“How do you play?” Jack interrupted. He figured the title was pretty self explanatory, but he wanted to make sure. 

“Kaia and I will demonstrate,” Claire replied. “Kaia, truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” 

“Okay… what are you most afraid of?” 

“Hmmm… toss up between abandonment and you when you’re hung over and the coffee pot is empty.” 

“Damn, okay. You get it, Jack?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” 

“Okay,” Kaia said, “Jack, truth or dare?” 

“Dare.” 

“Ooh.” She paused a moment, thinking. “I dare you to wear a crop top all day tomorrow.” 

“While we’re fighting monsters?” Jack asked. That didn’t sound like a good idea. 

“Yeah, okay, maybe not,” Kaia backtracked. 

“After we’re done fighting monsters, then,” Claire chimed in, “There’s a club in the next town over, where the camper van is. I thought we could go.” 

“Okay, you have to wear the crop top while clubbing.” 

Jack didn’t like the sound of that, but neither did he particularly dislike the idea of it. It was just clothing. “Okay.” 

“Alright, now you ask one of us,” Claire prompted. 

“Okay, Claire, truth or dare?” Jack asked. 

“Dare.” 

Jack grinned. “I dare you to wear pastels when we go clubbing.” 

“That’s just rude,” Claire retorted while Kaia cackled in the passenger seat. She looked over at Kaia, pretending to glare. “Truth or dare, Kaia?” 

Kaia took a deep breath, stemming her laughter. “I guess I should choose dare, since you both did.” 

“Alright, I dare you to let me pick the music.” 

Kaia scoffed loudly. “Man, I got off easy.” Claire unplugged Kaia’s phone from the aux and stuck the cord into her phone. She scrolled through her playlists for a moment, glancing between the screen and the road, then picked on and dropped the phone into a cup holder. Some song about champagne, cocaine, and gasoline started playing loudly, making it impossible to continue the game. Though Kaia pretended not to like Claire’s music, she knew the words to these songs too. They sang loudly again, and Jack bopped his head to the beat again. 

They reached the motel before Claire could get bored again. Kaia waited in the car, feet up on the dashboard, while Jack and Claire went to check in. Once they had the keys, they grabbed their bags and settled into the room. 

“Should we go see your mortician friend?” Jack asked. It wasn’t too late in the day, he figured the morgue would still be open. 

Claire looked up from her phone. Jack saw that she had been texting someone. “Yeah, I was just about to let Danny know we were on our way.” 

“Sounds good,” Kaia said. The three of them gathered their weaponry, tucked it away in various pockets, and made their way to the car. 

“So, this Danny, how’d you meet him?” Jack asked Claire. 

“Not him,” she corrected, “Danny is nonbinary, uses they/them pronouns.” 

“Nonbinary?” 

“Not a boy or a girl.” 

“Like angels.” Jack nodded to himself, then paused. Would that make him…? He figured that was something to think about another time. 

“Sure. Like angels. Anyway, I met them on an online server dedicated to the supernatural. One of the only legitimate ones out there.” 

“Cool.” 

Jack couldn’t help but ponder this nonbinary idea as Claire drove them to the morgue. He definitely had a male body, but he had never felt particularly… well, male. But he wasn’t a girl, that was for certain. Maybe he’d try out the pronouns, see how they felt. Maybe while they went clubbing. New clothes, new gender, one night only. Why not?


	18. Chapter 18

Dean and Cas walked slowly, their fingers woven together. Miracle bounded ahead of them, smelling every tree and bush and wildflower. Cas pulled on Dean’s hand, stopping to observe a fat bumblebee buzzing from flower to flower. Dean chuckled softly, recalling when Cas had suddenly appeared to him, covered in bees and nothing else. He pushed away the thought that he had been crazy with Sam’s memories of the cage, and relished in the hilarity of the situation out of context. 

“What are you laughing at?” Cas asked, turning away from the flowers to look at him. 

Dean felt himself blush. “When you showed up covered in bees that one time.” 

It was Cas’ turn to blush. “Ah, yes.” 

“Shall we turn around?” 

“Sure.” 

Dean whistled to Miracle, and he trotted down the trail, pushing between them as he went. He suddenly barked, and went chasing after a squirrel or bird. 

“What will you name your roadhouse?” Cas asked. 

Dean smiled. “I don’t know,” he replied. “I hadn’t really given myself time to think about it.” 

“Surely you have ideas.” 

“I don’t know. Dean’s Place?” 

“Boring,” Cas teased.

“Guess you’re right.” He thought for a moment, then smiled. “Zeppelin Roadhouse.” 

Cas laughed. “Or maybe Metallica Bar,” he replied sarcastically. 

“Okay, fine. How about… just Winchester’s?” 

“Maybe not your name. Might attract some… unwelcome guests. Angels and demons may be leaving you alone, but you have made plenty of monsters your enemies.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“Purgatory?” 

Dean laughed. “Apparently, there’s one of those in Miami.” 

“Ah. Wouldn’t want to get mixed up with them.” 

“No,” he agreed. "What about The Family Business?" 

Cas thought about that one for a moment before shaking his head. "It's your place. No one else's." 

Dean grinned, letting that idea roll around in his head. His own place. Well, his and Cas'. Nothing to do with his dad or Sam. His own future, to share with his angel. An idea suddenly occurred to him. 

“What about Angel’s House?” 

Cas smiled sadly. “I’m not an angel anymore.” 

“You’re not an angel of the lord,” Dean corrected, “But you’re my angel.” Before Cas had the chance to respond, Dean pulled him close and planted a kiss on his mouth. Cas melted into the kiss, pressing his body to Dean’s. They stood there for what could have been a few moments or a few years, feeling each other with their hands and mouths. Then Cas pulled away, looking up at Dean with bright eyes. 

“To the Angel’s House,” Cas declared. 

Dean smiled back, and pulled Cas along the trail by the hand, back to the Impala. Miracle rejoined them as they arrived at the car. Dean drove a few miles per hour over the speed limit, all the while picturing their life as roadhouse owners. He pictured himself and Cas behind the bar, dishrags over their shoulders, pouring shots of whiskey and tequila for tired truckers. 

He pulled into the dirt parking lot next to a silver Honda and examined the false front as he exited the car. It could do with a new paint job– they’d need to repaint anyway, to cover up the old name– but it was otherwise in great shape. 

“Can I help you gentlemen?” 

A man in a trucker cap and a down vest was standing in the doorway to the roadhouse, hands in his pockets. 

“Saw the place was for sale, just wanted to take a look around,” Dean replied. 

The man grunted. “Come on in.” 

Cas followed Dean up the wooden stairs, surprisingly sturdy, and through the doors. Dean grinned. The wood at the bar was scratched and old, the bar stools were rickety and looked about a day from falling apart, the felt on the pool table was graffitied and torn, and the small karaoke stage in the corner was dark, presumably because the lights had burned out. There was no machine or microphone to suggest that it had ever been used. He turned to Cas. He looked uncertain, but it morphed into determination when he saw how excited Dean was. 

Dean could picture it all. The bar sanded and polished, dark and shining and new. New felt on the pool table. Metal bar stools that wouldn’t creak under the weight of the person sitting on them. A karaoke machine with tons of classic rock to choose from, and colored lights to go with. The place bustling with life, with laughter. 

Dean turned to the owner. “How much to buy the place?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to try to finish this fic tonight or tomorrow, I’ll probably publish like 3-5 more chapters. Thanks to those who have been reading, it means a lot to me!


	19. Chapter 19

Sam and Eileen made their way back to the bar, fingers laced together. There was a great deal more people now that most people’s work day was done, and the place was hopping. A woman who appeared to be quite a few drinks in already was slurring away into the microphone on the stage, and quite a few men in loosened ties were talking loudly at the bar. 

When they reached the bar, Sam signaled to the bartender, the same woman they’d met earlier that afternoon. She walked over, wiping her hands on her dishrag. 

“Two beers, and if you could point out Paisley?” Sam struggled to raise his voice above the din of the other drinkers. 

“She’s the one on stage,” the waitress replied. She took two pint glasses from under the counter and filled them at the tap, then slid them to Sam. Sam slid a twenty to her, and took the glasses, handing one to Eileen. She took a sip, then smiled. Sam pointed to the girl on the stage, mouthing “suspect.” Eileen nodded and led the way to a table between the door and the stage. They watched the girl onstage as she sang poorly and batted her eyes at the buzzed men. She was good. Only someone who’d hustled people at bars as much as Sam and Dean had would be able to tell she was faking. 

Eileen tapped Sam’s hand to get his attention. [Do you think she’s the vampire?] 

[Yes.] Sam paused before elaborating. [She’s faking. She’s not actually drunk.] 

Eileen nodded, sipping her beer. They watched as the woman stumbled off of the stage and into one of the men’s arms. The two of them spoke for a moment, then made their way to the door. Sam looked at Eileen, and she nodded at him. They stood and followed the drunk and not-so-drunk pair as they exited the bar and turned down the adjacent alleyway. They had barely rounded the corner when they heard the man shout out in fear. 

“Hey!” Sam yelled. The woman turned away from the man, whom she had pinned to the brick wall of the bar, snarling with sharp fangs. Before Sam could do anything further, Eileen darted forward, slicing with her machete. 

The vampire was too quick. She let go of the man, causing him to fall to the ground, and ducked under the blade. Sam rushed to the man’s side, checking to see if he was unconscious or dead. He watched Eileen sparring with the vampire as he pressed his fingers to the man’s neck. The man’s pulse felt normal; he’d be fine. Sam stood and drew his machete, ready to aid Eileen, but in that moment, the vampire stepped into a storm drain, her heel slipping through the grate, and she stumbled directly into the path of Eileen’s blade. Her head hit the ground before her body. 

Eileen turned to Sam, her smile and the white collar of her shirt flecked with drops of blood. “That was easy.” The man behind Sam groaned, and he turned his attention back to him. 

“Hey, buddy, you good?” Sam asked, crouching down beside him. 

“What happened?” he asked groggily. He looked around the alley, eyes widening when he spotted the headless corpse. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Did you…?!” 

“Go home,” Sam said firmly, “You’re safe now.” The man stared at him in fear for a moment before scrambling to his feet and running off. 

“We should get back to the motel,” Eileen said. 

Sam nodded and turned to her. “Don’t want people to see us with the body.” 

“What should we do with it?” 

“Dumpster?” Sam really wasn’t in the mood to do anything drastic. Eileen nodded, sheathed her machete, and picked up the head, tossing it in the dumpster a few feet away. Sam picked up the headless body, careful not to let blood drip onto his suit, and did the same. 

They made their way back to the motel, careful not to draw attention to themselves in Eileen’s bloodied state. When they were safely back in the room, Eileen began to undress, folding her blazer and shirt back in the travel bag in the closet. Sam couldn’t help but stare at her. He didn’t think he’d ever get over how beautiful she was. 

She turned around, catching him staring, and smirked. [Pervert,] she signed. 

Sam blushed and turned away, and heard her make her way to the bathroom to wash the blood from her face. He took off his suit jacket and tie, settling onto the bed and picking up the book Eileen had been reading in the car from the bedside table. He heard the sink turn off, and watched out of the corner of his eye as Eileen came back out of the bathroom, still shirtless. She climbed onto the bed, took the book from his hands, and kissed him. Sam closed his eyes, and heard the book tumble to the floor when she tried to place it on the nightstand and missed. He ran his hands slowly down her shoulders, over her bra strap, and down her back, finally resting his hands on her hips, while Eileen went to work on Sam’s shirt buttons. He pulled back, opening his eyes, and removed his shirt the rest of the way, tossing it on the floor. 

“Eileen,” he whispered as her eyes darted to his lips. He didn’t know how to sign the words– he hadn’t planned far enough ahead to learn them– but he needed to ask. 

“Yeah?” She was so close, flush against him, and Sam felt like he finally understood the saying that said that the eyes were windows into the soul. He felt like he could see her, all of her, every good and bad thing about her, and he loved her, he loved her so, so much. 

“Will you marry me?”


	20. Chapter 20

“Sorry to drag you guys all the way out here for nothing,” Claire apologized, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. 

“Not your fault,” Kaia assured her, “That was one fucked up corpse. I don’t know that I would have found the heart.” 

“That must have been one angry dog,” Jack commented. Claire pulled the car back into the motel parking lot. 

“Well, I guess that means we go out tonight,” Claire said, shrugging. Jack couldn’t see her face, but could tell that she was grinning. 

“Time to dress you in pastels,” Kaia teased. 

“Do we even have pastels?” Claire asked dubiously as she stepped out of the vehicle. 

“Yeah, I’ve got that purple tank top, don’t you worry.” Kaia turned to Jack. “And I’ve got a very fun blue crop top for you.” 

Jack groaned, although, truth be told, he was rather excited to try it out. They entered the motel room, and Kaia dug through her duffel bag, tossing clothing to Claire and Jack. The top was just a soft cotton shirt cut short, with fringe hanging down. Claire was complaining loudly and dramatically about having to wear such uncharacteristic colors, and Kaia was laughing at her. 

“Jack, you should go change in the bathroom,” Kaia instructed, “Don’t come out until we tell you to.” 

“Okay,” Jack said. He paused. “What pants do I wear with this?” 

Kaia looked him up and down before answering. “Just the jeans you’re wearing are fine.” 

Jack shrugged and closed himself into the bathroom. He changed into the crop top, then looked in the mirror. He was surprised. He looked… really good. He grinned, and turned side to side, examining his reflection. It was tight on his shoulders, but he liked how the fringe danced across his midriff. 

And maybe… they tried out the new pronouns in their head. They sounded nice. They felt right. 

“Alright, Jack, you can come out now!” Claire yelled. They opened the door and stepped into the room. As soon as they saw Claire, Jack let out a loud laugh. She was in a loose pastel purple tank top and washed out jeans. She had removed her heavy black eyeliner, which left her looking surprisingly joyous– not her usual angry self. 

“Wow,” Kaia said, “You look good, Jack.” 

Jack smiled and spun around. “Thank you!” 

“I’m going to preorder an Uber to get us back here,” Claire announced, “We can get dinner somewhere near here before we go.” She stepped outside the room, dialing a number on her phone. 

Jack cleared their throat. Kaia turned to them, still grinning about the crop top. “Hey, Kaia, um… just for tonight, I wanted to… just to try it out, I mean… maybe I could use they/them pronouns?” 

If possible, Kaia grinned wider. “Yeah! Are you thinking…?” 

“Maybe.” Jack assumed she was asking if they were nonbinary. They weren’t really sure yet; Jack had never thought to question being anything other than male. But it felt right. 

“Okay, that’s taken care of,” Claire announced, pounding the door loudly as she entered the room. She looked up at Jack, and smiled. It looked strange without all the makeup. “You’re right, Kaia, he does look good.” 

Kaia glanced at Jack, and they nodded. “Actually, we’re trying out they/them for tonight,” she said slowly. 

Claire paused a moment, glancing between the two of them, before responding. “Dope. Correct me if I slip up.” Jack smiled. “So what are we bringing with us? I’ve got a little gun that I’m sure I could sneak in fine, and a silver knife.” She pointed to her combat boots. Jack couldn’t see the hilt of the knife; Claire was good at concealing her weaponry. 

“Do we really need to bring weapons?” Kaia groaned. 

“Fine, if we get jumped by vamps, I’ll let you be a juice box.” 

“Okay, fine, I’ll bring a knife.” She tucked a knife in a leather sheath into her boot. 

“What about you, Jack?” Claire asked. 

“Uh…” Jack was unaccustomed to going out without a jacket. They couldn’t tuck anything into their waistband, and their knives were too large to conceal in a pocket. 

“I have an extra calf-sheath,” Kaia offered, pulling a series of straps and a knife from her bag, “Silver-plated knife.” 

“Thank you.” Jack pulled up the hem of their pant leg and attached the knife hilt down. The crop top, the jeans, the converse. It was a look. 

“Let’s get going,” Claire announced, pulling aside the curtain to glance outside. “Everyone got ID?” 

“Uh…” Jack had an ID, but, obviously, it was fake, as they were technically only four years old. 

“Dean gets good fakes, you’ll be fine,” Claire said, reading their face. 

“Then yeah.” 

“Alright then, off we go, gays and theys!” 

The ride into town was uneventful. Jack scrolled through their phone, looking at Star Wars memes, while Claire and Kaia debated about whether or not demons could dance well, for whatever reason. Claire parked in front of a diner advertising the best milkshakes in the state. 

“Shall we?” Claire asked. 

“I could go for a milkshake,” Kaia agreed. 

“Sure!” 

When the trio entered the restaurant, Jack felt as though something were off. It was dinner hour, but the place was empty, except for a waitress in a pink collared dress. Jack glanced at Claire, and she nodded to them. She knew something was wrong as well. They took seats at a table in the middle of the restaurant, avoiding the booths. The waitress made her way over to them. 

“What can I get for you folks to drink?” the waitress asked jovially, handing them menus. 

“Coke, please,” Claire replied, her voice sounding much sweeter than normal. 

“Same here,” Kaia chimed in. 

“Same,” Jack said. They looked through the menu. Normal diner food, nothing strange. 

“Great! I’ll be right back!” The waitress disappeared into the kitchen. 

“What do you think is up with this place?” Kaia asked as soon as the waitress was gone. She began to stir her drink with her finger, which Jack thought was a bit odd. 

“Dunno, but something is definitely off,” Claire replied gravely. 

“Do you think–” Jack stopped talking abruptly as the waitress came back with the three drinks. “Thank you.” She smiled at them and disappeared into the kitchen again. “Do you think it’s our kind of thing?” They asked quietly. 

“Possibly,” Claire replied, “I think I’m going to, uh, use the restroom.” She stood and walked quickly toward the kitchen, where a restroom sign hung from the ceiling. Jack picked up their drink to take a sip. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Kaia warned. Jack glanced over to see that her fingernail, which had originally been painted black, was now a bright pink. “These are drugged.” 

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from the kitchen. Jack and Kaia jumped out of their seats and ran to the source of the noise. Claire was wrestling on the floor with the waitress, who now had yellow eyes and fangs. Jack groaned inwardly. They had forgotten that tonight was a full moon. 

From around the corner burst another werewolf, this one a tall and muscular man with an apron, presumably the cook. Jack crouched down quickly to pull the knife from their pant leg as Kaia rushed to Claire’s aid, kicking the waitress in the face. Jack faced down the cook, brandishing their knife. They were suddenly very keenly aware of the fact that their midriff was exposed. Not that fabric would make much difference to a werewolf’s claws, but it was still disconcerting. The cook lashed out at Jack, and they swung their knife, slicing into his arm. He hissed in pain, the skin around the wound sizzling. Jack advanced, swinging the knife with near wild abandon. The werewolf retreated, covering his face and growling. Jack persisted, slicing at his arms and shoulders, backing the creature into a corner. He hit the wall, and Jack could see the panic in his eyes as he lunged at them. Jack ducked beneath the claws and stabbed, hardly seeing where the blade landed. The werewolf landed on top of Jack, letting out something between a roar and a shriek, and fell still. 

Jack slid out from underneath the werewolf, and rolled him over to retrieve the knife. It was a perfect shot to the heart. Dean would be proud. They ran back to where Claire and Kaia had been fighting the waitress to see Claire pulling Kaia’s knife from the woman’s chest. Jack leaned against the tiled wall, sighing in relief. 

“That was pretty badass,” Kaia said, not paying Jack any attention. 

Claire blushed and handed the knife to Kaia. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” Kaia took the knife from Claire, then slid her other hand around her neck, under her hair, and leaned in to kiss her. Jack turned away, not wanting to intrude on their moment. They noticed a human arm sticking out of a large pot, and their stomach rolled a bit. 

Suddenly they smiled. Even without powers, Jack had held their own in a fight. The three of them had killed two werewolves without any forward planning, on the wolves’ own turf. 

“Shit, Jack, you got your shirt all bloody,” Claire exclaimed, drawing Jack’s attention away from the werewolves’ intended dinner. They looked down to see that their shirt was, in fact, soaked in blood. 

“Son of a bitch,” Jack groaned. 

“Guess we’re not going clubbing,” Claire pouted. 

Kaia stood from where she had been hiding her knife back in her boot. “That’s alright, we can have movie night back at the motel. We have IDs, we can get you alcohol.” 

Claire nodded, her happy mood returning. She walked briskly around the kitchen, turning up the gas dials on the stoves without lighting the burners. 

“What are you doing?” Jack asked. 

“Covering our tracks,” Claire explained, pulling a lighter from her pocket. 

“Also known as an excuse to commit arson,” Kaia said. 

Claire grinned and lit the lighter, then tossed it onto the floor next to the waitress’s body. The three of them made their way quickly back out to the car. As Jack climbed into the back seat, they heard the fire alarm in the restaurant go off, blaring into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I made any pronoun typos, please let me know!


	21. Chapter 21

Cas rolled over, reaching for Dean, but he was not in bed. He opened his eyes, and saw the clock. 10:30. He’d slept in late. He wondered if this would become a normal thing, Dean always waking up before him. 

He rolled out of bed and made his way to the kitchen, the concrete floors cold under his feet. He could smell coffee brewing, and heard Dean humming over the sound of the sink running. He stopped in the doorway, leaning against the wall. Dean was swaying back and forth to whatever song it was that he was singing. He was fully dressed, and there was a brand new bag of dog food under the counter; he must have gone grocery shopping. Miracle poked his head around the corner and trotted up to Cas, hoping for attention. Cas smiled at the dog and leaned down to pet him. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean greeted. Cas looked up and smiled, still running his hands down Miracle’s back. Dean turned back to the sink, and Cas realized that he was peeling the leaves and silk from corn on the cob. Cas stood back up, much to Miracle’s dismay and walked up behind Dean. He snaked his arms around his waist, laying his chin on Dean’s shoulder. This closeness still felt so new, so foreign, and Cas couldn’t get enough of it. 

“Do you like corn on the cob?” Dean asked, pausing in the middle of peeling leaves from the corn. 

“I don’t know,” Cas replied. He was excited to try all of the different foods Dean liked. As an angel, he’d tasted each individual molecule, and that was simply overwhelming. As a human, the flavors were more vague, but harmonized together nicely. And Dean’s home cooking was better than anything he’d eaten while working at the Gas-N-Sip. 

“I was thinking we’d go over to the roadhouse later today, get to work on fixing it up,” Dean rambled, “We could start by sanding down the bar, I bought some wood stain this morning while I was getting groceries.” 

“That sounds good,” Cas mumbled. He let go of Dean and walked over to the coffee pot, hoping that caffeine would drive the rest of his sleepiness away. As he was pouring his mug, he heard the front door of the bunker slam. He and Dean glanced at each other, then both rushed out of the kitchen. Cas grabbed the angel blade that Dean kept under the counter, and Dean took a gun from his waistband, aiming it ahead of them as they made their way down the hall. 

Dean lowered his gun as soon as they exited the hall, and Cas relaxed his shoulders. It was just Jack, although he was a bit worried about the state he was in. There was blood smeared on his neck, although it didn’t seem to be his own. 

“Jack, are you okay?” he asked sternly. 

Jack grinned at him. “Never better!” 

“What happened?” Dean asked, tucking his gun back into his waistband. 

“The dog attack turned out to be just a dog attack, and then we went out for dinner last night and the restaurant turned out to be run by werewolves.” He dumped his duffel bag on the map table. “Claire set the restaurant on fire. After we killed them.” 

Dean nodded his approval. “Arson. Great.” 

“And the blood?” Cas asked, unimpressed by Jack’s vague story. 

“Oh, the shower in the motel room stopped working,” Jack explained. 

“Ah.” 

“You should go clean up,” Dean said. “Have you had breakfast?” 

“No, I haven’t,” Jack replied, “But before I go clean up, I have something to tell you.” 

Cas felt a tingle of nervousness in his gut. “What is it?” 

Jack straightened his back and took a deep breath. “I’m nonbinary.” 

“Huh?” Dean responded. 

“It means that Jack is neither male nor female,” Cas explained to Dean, “most angels are like that.” 

Dean nodded his understanding, then frowned. “Okay, so what does that mean for us?” 

“I would like to go by they/them pronouns,” Jack announced. 

Dean nodded. “Okay, kiddo, whatever floats your boat.” 

“Make sure to correct us if we forget,” Cas said. He stepped toward Jack and enveloped them in a hug. Jack hugged him back for a second, then pulled away. “Now go get cleaned up.” Jack walked down the hallway, a spring in their step. 

“They/them, huh,” Dean commented, “might take me a minute to get used to.” 

“It’s not too hard,” Cas replied. He led the way back to the kitchen, and went back to his cup of coffee. Dean got out a skillet and a carton of eggs and began to scramble them. Cas watched him cook in silence, admiring the way he focused so much when he cooked. Jack came back as he finished, their hair wet. 

“Eat up, kiddo,” Dean invited. 

Jack sat at the counter and dug into their plate of eggs, ignoring Miracle, who was begging next to their seat. “So what did you guys do while I was gone?” they asked, mouth full. 

“Dean bought a bar,” Cas said. 

Jack’s eyes widened in shock. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, “we’re going to go work on it after breakfast. Wanna come with us?” 

“Yes!” Jack exclaimed. Cas chuckled, plucked a fork from the counter, and stole a bite of Jack’s eggs. They glared at him, and moved the plate away. 

When everyone was fed and ready to go, they piled into the Impala and drove to the roadhouse. Jack wandered around, looking at the ratted out pool table with distaste. Miracle circled around the place, sniffing every inch of the floor. Cas turned to Dean, and watched him as he looked around his new place. He could almost see Dean’s imagination running wild as he ran his eyes over every inch of wood. His eyes finally landed on Cas, and he smiled gently at him. Cas stepped toward him and took his hand. 

“Does he– sorry, do they know how to use power tools?” Dean asked Cas, gesturing at Jack. 

“You’ll have to teach them,” Cas replied. Dean nodded, and dropped Cas’ hand to go get the power tools from the Impala. 

Cas walked over to where Jack was examining the scratched-up bar. “What do you think?” he asked. 

“It’s…” Jack paused before continuing. “It’s a bit of a fixer-upper.” 

Cas nodded in agreement. “True, but it will be wonderful when it’s complete.” 

“Dean seems really excited about it.” 

“He is. Did he tell you what he’s naming it?” 

“No.” 

“He’s naming it The Angel’s House.” 

Jack grinned. Just then, Dean walked back inside, his arms laden with various power tools. 

“Hey kid, wanna learn how to sand a bar?” 

Cas watched as Dean passed a pair of safety glasses to Jack and demonstrated how to use the power sander. After a few minutes, he grabbed a broom that was leaning against the wall behind the bar, and started sweeping the floor. Dean nodded his approval to Jack and said something that Cas couldn’t hear over the whine of the power tool, then grabbed a bluetooth speaker from his pile of gear. He fumbled with buttons for a moment, then “Back In Black,” by AC/DC blared throughout the room. Dean grinned and set the speaker and his phone on the pool table before walking back to the bar to manually sand the grooves and corners of the bar that Jack missed. 

Cas had never been happier.


	22. One Year Later

“Hey Cas, did you bring in that pack of IPA?” Dean asked, sidling up to his angel. 

“Yes, I did, about twenty minutes ago,” Cas replied, taking a few crumpled bills from a bearded man in a dirty trucker hat. “Relax a bit, would you?” The trucker left the bar, holding the door open for another customer as he left. 

“I am relaxed,” Dean protested. “Do you know what time they said they’d get here?” 

“They didn’t. Stop worrying, it’s not even dark yet.” 

“Alright, alright.” Dean turned to a woman in dark braids who had just sat at the opposite end of the bar. He recognized her as a hunter, although he couldn’t recall her name. “What can I get you?” 

“Two shots of whiskey,” she replied in a raspy voice. 

“That kind of night, huh?” 

“You don’t know the half of it.” 

Dean smiled as he set two shot glasses on the dark, polished bar, and filled them. As she tipped the first one back, he walked back over to Cas, who was bending over to rub Miracle’s belly. He was about to speak when he heard the doors swing open. 

“Hey!” Sam called across the bar. Eileen, Jack, Charlie, and Stevie followed him. Miracle ran to greet them, and Dean walked around the bar and embraced his brother. He then turned to Charlie and Stevie, who hadn’t been to the roadhouse until now. 

“Welcome!” he said, spreading his arms. He turned and gave Eileen a welcome hug, and ruffled Jack’s hair. 

“Nice place you got,” Charlie commented as Dean turned to hug her. 

“Thank you,” Dean replied, feeling as though his heart were glowing. “You should try out the karaoke machine.” 

Charlie’s eyes widened as she turned to the empty stage, the microphone bathed in purple light. “No way!” 

“Yes way!” He turned back to the bar, and the hunters took seats along the bar. Cas greeted each of them in turn, filling glasses of beer from the tap. Miracle sat by Jack’s feet, staring up at them in that dog way. 

“How did the hunt go?” Cas asked. 

“Oh, God,” Charlie groaned, turning to face Eileen, who was sitting to her right. “Eileen, tell him what happened.” 

Sam buried his face in his hands, while Eileen grinned maniacally. She turned to Dean and Cas. “My idiot husband got himself captured,” she said, laughing and signing. “And,” she continued, “the nest was entirely teenagers!” 

Dean laughed. “Getting a little old, man?” 

“You’re older than me,” Sam retorted. 

“Yeah, and I’m retired!” 

Sam rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer before speaking again. “Well, we had a competition going, and Jack lost, so they’re buying all the drinks tonight.” 

“Damn it!” Jack yelled, “I thought you’d forgotten!” 

“How could we possibly forget about free drinks?” Charlie shot back, laughing. 

“Says the one who’s not driving,” Stevie complained lightheartedly. 

“Sorry not sorry,” Charlie said in a sing-song voice, “You lost rock–paper–scissors.” She tipped back her glass, and something shiny caught Dean’s eye before he could assure Jack that drinks were on the house. 

“Is that a ring?” Dean asked. 

Charlie wiped her mouth with her jacket sleeve before shoving her hand in Dean’s face, smiling broadly. On her finger was a silver engagement ring. 

“Congratulations!” Cas said, edging close enough to Dean that their hips were almost touching. Eileen asked about wedding plans, and Stevie and Charlie turned to her to discuss them with great animosity. 

Cas took Dean’s hand, and the conversations around him seemed to fade. He was vaguely aware of Charlie hopping off the bar stool and dragging Stevie over to the karaoke machine, Jack following. His heart jumped when Cas kissed his cheek, and he turned to kiss him back. 

“So unprofessional,” he heard Sam say. He snapped his dishtowel at him, not bothering to break away from Cas to aim properly. He heard Charlie singing “Jessie’s Girl” loudly across the room, and Stevie laughing at her. 

Cas broke away when the door opened again, and a crowd of truckers walked in, laughing loudly. 

Dean spent the rest of the night hustling pool and serving them shots of whiskey. Stevie and Charlie left when Charlie started stumbling, and Sam and Eileen took Jack back to the bunker when it got dark. As midnight arrived, Dean played “Closing Time” on the karaoke machine and ushered the men out. 

He and Cas cleaned up quickly, eager to get home. They weren’t quite finished moving into their new two-bedroom house, but they could finish tomorrow before they left to open the bar. Maybe they could even walk Miracle along the lake that was less than a football field’s length from the back door. Jack would come by sometime that week to decorate their room, so they could spend every other week with Dean and Cas. 

As they stepped off the porch and into the cool night air, Dean turned and looked up at the false front. In the dim moonlight, he could make out the sign he’d so painstakingly painted. 

It read “Angel’s House” in black letters, with a red handprint on the left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have been following this piece! It's my first attempt at a long fic, so I really appreciate people's comments and kudos!


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